Take The Fall
by OutCold
Summary: ""Is it over?" he choked out, a thread of blood trickling from his mouth."  Jane never thought past killing RJ, but while he fights for his life in the ICU, Lisbon quickly realises it isn't over at all, and has to decide how far she'll go for him.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: *sob***

**A/N: My first Mentalist multi-chap!! Thanks to Tiva4evaxxx for beta-ing - would you believe she actually changed stuff? *dies from shock* I'm very proud. Thanks for all your help on this, Em, the idea and the writing.**

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It all started when he took Lisbon's gun. Had he known then, he would have died rather than ever touch it.

Red John held a carefully aimed handgun - Jane was resisting the temptation to laugh through his fear, as it was clear how much the killer hated his weapon. It was... too quick, too easy. Too distant. Lisbon stood perfectly still at Jane's side, a hand hovering above her own firearm. But terrified to go for it, knowing by the time she'd fired Patrick Jane would be dead. He didn't care so much for his own life.

"Goodbye, Patrick," Red John drawled.

Jane blinked, having completely missed the entire of his murderer's ending speech in his concentration. _Shame, _he thought to himself. It was probably quite good. He pulled his mind back into focus, and in one swift movement pushed Lisbon to the side, grabbing her gun from the holster and firing blindly at Red John. Both men fell to the floor, blood flowed and soaked into the wood.

One glance at Red John told Lisbon he was finally dead, that she was safe. In that moment she wasn't so bothered about her own well being as she was Jane's, and she rushed over to him, who stared up at her with innocent green eyes. "Is it over?" he choked out, a thread of blood trickling from his mouth.

She fumbled for her phone, dialling for help as quickly as she could, and sat on the ground beside him, just listening to the sound of their own breathing, evidence that they were still there, that after everything that had happened over the last couple of hours they were still alive. She was hit by exhaustion, the slightest of bitter relief seeped into her, only because there was still hope, that after everything they had been through, it would be okay. Jane just needed to make it. Looking for more reassurance, she picked up his hand, running her fingers over it. "Yes," she told him, blinking back tears. "Yes, Jane, it's over."

_It's over, it's over. Yes, Jane, it's finally over._

She held onto his hand until the paramedics forced her to let go. Finally, Lisbon stood, black mascara-trails down her pale face, and picked her gun from the floor, putting it back in its place. She walked over to Red John, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. She prodded his head slightly with the toe of her shoe, trying to see what it was in the man that made him capable of such evil. "He better not die, you sonofabitch," she told the corpse, her voice finally cracking. "He better not die." She softly repeated, more steadily now.

Cho, who had arrived with the ambulance, watched in tactful silence, then approached her and gently led her away. Right now, she might want nothing more than to mutilate the body of Red John, but he knew in quarter of an hour she'd just want to be by Jane's side.

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It was five hours before Jane was out of surgery and lying unconscious in the ICU, tubes and wires wound through him. Virgil Minelli watched his assisted breathing. He'd been called from retirement temporarily in the lieu of Hightower's departure, and ever since he got what he called the "Red John Call" he'd been wishing he'd just stayed home and read a book. "Lisbon," he said softly.

"I know," the near broken woman at his side replied, and turned away. "I have to make a statement."

"You're the only person who was in that room who can tell us what happened. He'll still be here in an hour or so."

She nodded grimly. "I wish you were wrong. Let's go."

Grace, Rigsby and Cho looked at each other, torn between staying with Jane and supporting Lisbon.

"What do we do?" Grace asked, voicing what they were all asking.

Cho looked through the window at Jane. "We stay," he decided.

Seeming doubtful, Rigsby glanced over at his boss being gently guided away. "You sure, man?"

Also watching Lisbon, Cho nodded. He didn't miss her quick thankful look; he knew she'd want them with Jane if she couldn't be there.

A nurse walked by. Grace stopped her. "Can we go in?"

She warily looked at the three tired agents. "Only two at a time," she told them. "And turn off your cells."

Cho nodded at Rigsby and Grace to go in, seeing that he had his arm protectively around her waist. She wasn't bothering to hide her tears, and in a way Cho respected her for it. At any rate he knew they needed her to be like this, to be Grace. They needed everyone. Lisbon to be strong. Rigsby to be macho, and yet kind of soft. He stared again through the window. Their team didn't work if one of them was missing. They needed everyone to make it complete. He wondered what had happened in that room, with Red John, and wished for the hundredth time that he'd been there. If nothing else, he could be making a statement now and Lisbon could still be here, in with Jane. He looked again at Van Pelt and Rigsby, cautiously touching his hand. The doctors said it was fifty-fifty if Jane lived or died. Cho was hoping the odds soon shifted, even just a little. They needed Jane too.

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Lisbon sat opposite the woman from the Attorney General's office, explaining in a monotone how her and Jane had gone to check out the house. She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, taking her back to the room and trying to steel herself to retell what had happened.

"I have to say, Patrick Jane may be a pain in the ass, but he doesn't deserve what he's going to get for this," the woman said sympathetically.

"What? For what?" Lisbon was confused – in shock, and over the years her brain had gotten so used to the idea of Jane's revenge that it didn't seem to her a crime anymore.

"For murdering Red John," she said. "I mean, how many people did he tell that he was going to do it? Completely premeditated – let's face it, he's lucky if he gets twenty-five years, probably more."

Again, the world seemed to disappear around Lisbon. Twenty-five years? She blinked. Twenty-five years? That wasn't right. That wasn't fair. Twenty-five years. Minelli noticed that she'd spaced out, and glared at the lawyer for her bluntness. "Teresa…" he said.

"Here," snapping out of it, she forced a weak smile. "Sorry, just… confused. Jane didn't do anything."

Both Minelli and the lawyer stared incredulously. "Pardon?"

Lisbon thought of Jane grabbing her gun – _her _gun. "He was about to shoot Jane. So I killed him. I killed Red John."

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**Dun dun dun. :P**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: *tries to think of something witty and clever* I don't own the Mentalist.**

**A/N: Everyone who reads this and watches Bones, PM Tiva4evaxxx and tell her to UD ROL. She said she would, and just because she said it yesterday doesn't mean I'm letting her back out. Thanks again for the betaing, Em. :P**

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"You?" Minelli asked, stunned.

Lisbon looked surprised. "Yeah, me. Is there a problem, boss?"

"Just… changes everything," said the lawyer, finding her voice.

"I can't see it's any different to other times I've had to shoot a suspect," she feigned. "I'm sorry… I thought you knew. It didn't occur to me… but of course you thought it was Jane."

She knew she seemed suitably lost and vague, as their stunned expressions turned to sympathy again. And so they pushed on with the report, Lisbon was truthful about everything except the moment when Jane grabbed her gun – and since she was lying anyway, she decided it wasn't necessary to tell them everything Red John had said, besides, she wasn't sure she could say it aloud.

"_Look at him, Agent Lisbon," _she heard again, as she'd been hearing ever since it happened. _"He doesn't even know," _the mocking voice continued._ "The Great Patrick Jane doesn't even realise… because he cares more about killing me than seeing you – but you know that, don't you? He can't love you Teresa. Not like you love him."_

She remembered his veiled disappointment that neither she nor Jane had reacted.

Jane, for one, appeared to be in a different world, and she had been determined to stay strong, to not to give Red John what he wanted. But really his words had had the desired effect, they had burned into her head. _He can't love you, Teresa. _I don't care, she thought furiously, it doesn't matter, so long as he survives. She didn't love Jane as Red John had guessed, but she did care for him. Again the possibility that he wouldn't make it hit her like a physical blow. She didn't want what had happened in there to be her last memory of him. But what she really couldn't stand was to think of him pale and cold, eyes staring blankly. Shaking herself violently to dispel the image, she tried again to focus on the room she was in. Minelli could read her though, and suggested that since they had the essentials, they stopped for the day for them "all" to get some rest.

Lisbon was grateful, and murmured thanks to show it, but she had no intention of resting. Half an hour later she was back in the hospital. Grace, at least, was sleeping, with her head on Rigsby's shoulder and her hand in his.

"You back together then?" she asked, forcing a smile from her out of practise lips.

"Well, not, just, everything happening…" he tried to explain.

She nodded. "Good man."

That shut him up for a few seconds until he eventually said, "Thanks, boss," and quickly adding, "Cho's in with him."

When she entered, Cho stood from one of the chair's at Jane's side. She lifted a hand to stop him. "Stay."

Obediently, and without a word, he sat again. She dragged the other chair around the side of the bed and sat, leaning forward onto her knees. For ten minutes she just looked at Jane; held his warm hand to prove to herself that he was still alive. Cho waited patiently, knowing she was working up to whatever she needed to say.

"I lied in my statement. I said I shot Red John." All the elaborate wording she'd tested in her head suddenly seemed unnecessary when it got to facing him. Of course she'd thought of lying to the team too, but it felt like a disservice to those who'd been loyal to her for years, through a lot of shit.

"Why?" Cho asked.

"They… they said Jane was facing twenty-five years for premeditated murder," she whispered, wincing slightly at the thought. "There isn't a lawyer in the world good enough to say that Jane _didn't _want to kill Red John."

"He knew what would happen. He was… he _is _willing to do the time."

"I won't let him. I'm not willing."

Cho stood, nodded, and left in silence. She'd told him all she'd asked him to stay for, and he had nothing else to say, so he left her with Jane and her thoughts.

By the next day, Red John's killing had reached the media. The team couldn't walk down a street without seeing a paper with Jane's picture, or hearing his name from a TV or radio. He had been in the public eye before, but it was disconcerting the frequency with which Lisbon was coming across herself. A coffee run from the hospital had her hearing the radio in Starbucks: "… by team leader Teresa Lisbon," she'd visibly started at her name, "according to anonymous sources within the CBI."

She knew immediately that her statement had been leaked, and wasn't surprised. It always happened with high profile cases. But she had still been in the police the last time the media had any interest in her, and had enjoyed being a non-entity in her years at the CBI. Automatically letting her hair fall to hide her face, she bought coffee for everyone as quickly as possible, and hurried back to the hospital. She found that they had mobbed seats in the ICU waiting room so that they weren't facing the entrance, and received an explanation when she sat down. Van Pelt inclined her head toward the desk where a man with a camera and another with a notepad were harassing an increasingly irate nurse.

"Journalists," she said with a grimace. "Wayne was all for getting them to back off, but it'd just end up in the papers."

"Good thinking, Van Pelt," Lisbon said, handing out the styrofoam cups and joining them. Like Rigsby, she had a desire to forcibly remove the men, but she knew Grace was right.

Cho took a long suffering sip of his coffee. "Thanks."

She faked shock. "Speaking to me now?"

Very soon she wished she hadn't commented as her whole team, who now knew, glared at her.

Cho shrugged. "When Jane wakes up, he's going to kill you. All we ask is to watch."

Eventually the doctors eased up on the only two visitors rule, on the special circumstances that they needed to hide from journalists, and they all camped out in Jane's room. Lisbon's phone, which she should have turned off, rang and she was shoved unceremoniously out.

"Lisbon," she answered.

"Lisbon, find a TV," said Minelli. "Stay on the line, and don't talk to any reporters."

She didn't reply but set off at a brisk walk to the waiting room where the new played on near-mute for 24 hours. The first thing she saw was an old picture of her on the screen, quickly followed by news cameras on a professional looking man.

"I have no volume, what am I seeing?"

Minelli, obviously watching wherever he was, said, "The man who just publicly accused you of murder."

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So exciting. :P Or I hope so... okay, not really. But c'mon. Be nice. It's my first Mentalist multi-chap (next time's excuse - it's my second Mentalist multi-chap... third, fourth, fifth....)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own Adrian Allan! And oh, am I going to have fun with him. *evil grin* But no, not the Mentalist or characters you recognise from the show.**

**A/N: Thanks as always to my flatteringly enthusiastic beta, Tiva4evaxxx.**

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Lisbon's blood turned to ice in her veins. "What?" she asked quietly, unable to think of anything more coherent.

"His name is Adrian Allan, he's a criminal prosecutor. Is there nowhere you can get volume?" Minelli asked, obviously not wanting to try and explain himself.

"Maybe," she murmured, brain still not quite functioning. "Give me a second."

She looked helplessly up and down the corridor, then stepped into one of the hospital's private rooms. It was, to her relief, unoccupied, and she flicked on the TV, dreading what she was about to see. The same man was on the screen again, but this time it was a clip from earlier in the day. His face was strongly featured, nose crooked as though it had been broken. Light brown hair was combed back, perfectly in place save for a few astray threads that blew in the wind in front of him.

"The Red John murders," he began, in a smooth tone, "have shocked and horrified us all, and to the families of his victims, I extend nothing but my greatest sympathy."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. The same words would be spoken again for days by many public figures.

"Wait for it," Minelli said bitterly.

She started a little, she'd forgotten he was on the phone.

"However I have campaigned tirelessly for justice, and I find the explanation given by the CBI of this murderer's death unsatisfactory at best. He should be locked up, waiting to be tried, not in a morgue. Of course our federal agents are often forced to kill against their wishes, and we are grateful for the job they do to protect us. For the most part, they are brave, noble and selfless people. But our gratitude does not mean they should not be held accountable for their actions."

"Hurry _up,_" Lisbon hissed at the screen.

"The California Bureau of Investigation screwed this up as soon as they let Patrick Jane in. I believe the agent in charge of the case became personally involved, and that Teresa Lisbon's killing of Red John was nothing less than cold blooded, premeditated murder."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What the…"

"Lisbon," Minelli said warily, and she knew and hated the question he was about to ask. "You need to be completely honest with me."

"I didn't _murder _him," she said. It was true, at least.

He nodded to himself, then gently said to her, "Okay. Then we'll deal with this."

"Right," she said, numb, disbelieving. "Yeah."

"Go back to Jane, Lisbon. Let me handle this. You just did your job."

She closed the phone, in a trance, and walked back to Jane's room. _What have I done? _Her brain flashed through every moment that had led her to this one; now nothing could change any of it – she'd lied to protect Jane, thinking her punishment wouldn't be so severe. And now it could be. _What have I done?_

In Jane's room, the team looked up slightly at her entrance, but said nothing. She slid down the wall to sit on the floor across from them.

"You okay, boss?" Rigsby asked, noticing the blankness of her gaze.

She shook her head slowly, couldn't find in her the effort to lie – besides, they'd find out anyway, soon enough.

"I've been accused of murder," she choked out.

Grace gasped, Cho's eyes widened slightly.

"Red John?" the latter asked.

Mutely, she nodded.

Van Pelt's jaw set angrily. "Who?" she demanded.

Lisbon couldn't resist a small smile at her protectiveness. "Some prosecutor guy. Adrian Allan."

"Adrian Allan?" Rigsby repeated. "Criminal prosecutor, practically a celebrity, only takes really high profile cases?"

She shrugged. "Thought I'd heard the name. That must be him."

Cho let out a low whistle. "That guy's good."

"You're making me feel so much better," Lisbon commented dryly.

"He's an asshole," Van Pelt said.

"I'd worked that out," was the reply. "But why do you say so?"

"He's been accused of sexual assault by women who work for him six times, and wriggled out of it every time," Grace explained. "Bribery, flattery, blackmail… managed to keep it pretty quiet too."

Somewhere in Lisbon's not-quite-working mind, she filed away this information for future use, but before she could say anything Rigsby had inadvertently changed the subject with his musing.

"Don't you guys find hospital rooms a little weird? I mean we're chatting, and just up there is…" he trailed off, hoping to get his point across.

Somewhat unhelpfully, Cho filled in the blank. "Jane, hooked up to life support."

Grace lightly swatted Rigsby's arm and glared at Cho.

"Don't be insensitive," she hissed.

Lisbon stifled a laugh, despite the situation she found her team and their bickering amusing.

She stood, stretching out her legs, and moved over to look down on Jane. Gently, carefully, she perched on the edge of his bed and picked up his hand, running her thumb over the back of it, letting out a soft sigh, the contact reminding her, again, that he wasn't gone yet.

The three still sitting on the floor tactfully found something else to look at.

"Oh for god's sake, Jane," she whispered. "The least you could do is wake up."

She thought she saw a flicker of movement below his eyelids, but when she looked again it had gone, and she decided she must have been imagining it.

A doctor walked in and was surprised to see the crowd, but didn't comment. He noted a few readings from Jane's machines.

"How's he been?" he asked lowly.

"Unconscious," Lisbon answered, her voice cracking a fraction. "I thought… I thought I saw his eyes move… just hope, I guess."

"It means he's dreaming," the doctor said. "It's a good sign."

He left as quietly as he'd come in, as much a part of this place as the walls and doors.

"Sweet dreams, Patrick," Lisbon said softly, squeezing his hand before slipping away, silent, and lost in her own thoughts.

_A girl runs along a garden path and flings her arms around him. _

"_Daddy, can I tell you a secret?" she whispers in his ear. _

_His wife, watching, laughs, and he understands she already knows whatever this secret is._

"_Of course you can," he tells her, but before she can say another word she seems to disappear. _

_His laughing wife's face changes, her hair darkens. He recognizes the woman she becomes, and smiles despite himself. He wonders where his wife and daughter went, a part of him pangs for their loss, but he sees this woman… Teresa, and he can't help his lips curling upward. _

"_The least you could do is wake up," she says - she seems upset. _

"_Wake up?" he sounds confused. Isn't he awake?_

_Something in the perfect equilibrium stirs, and suddenly she, like his wife and child, fades away. He tries to cry out and reach for her, but it's no use, and he's alone again._

_

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**Poor Patrick. Still, I'd kinda rather be him than Lisbon at the moment...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Only the plot. **

**A/N: Nothing really happens, but I did need to UD. So I hope you like it.**

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Cho wasn't a person who particularly liked or disliked hospitals. There wasn't anything appealing about the sterile hospital smell or the linoleum floors, but he didn't mind being there. Mostly, he knew it helped Lisbon if he was with Jane. They'd all been given two weeks forced leave, only to come into the office to give statements or the like, but of course she had far more legal stuff to go through than the rest of them, and couldn't be at the hospital as often. So, Cho would go along with a book and sit by Jane's side for hours at a time. Grace and Rigsby too, though they tended to come together. It made him laugh, especially when he saw the young male doctors staring at her. One was doing it right now in fact, as she stood at the coffee machine. Smirking, Cho snuck up behind him.

"I wouldn't bother," he shrugged.

The doctor, startled, jumped around and on seeing Cho, relaxed. _Great, _Cho thought. _I'm becoming recognisable to hospital staff. _

"The big guy?" the doctor asked, meaning Rigsby.

Giving a grim nod, Cho brushed past the hopeful on to talk to Van Pelt. She was far better conversation, really.

"You seen the boss today?"

Since she was released on bail, they tried to have some contact with Lisbon every day. Grace shook her head.

"Hoped you had."

…

Lisbon was sick of her team 'looking after' her. She really did _not _need it. And she couldn't avoid them either. They were where she wanted to be – the hospital. Every minute that wasn't spent at the CBI was spent there. She'd now seen Adrian Allan more times than she ever wanted to – she didn't have a great fondness for lawyers, but he was worse than the others. Arrogant, sleazy, he and Lisbon had only met properly once, and they didn't hit it off.

_Trying to rush out the door so she could reach Jane at a time the doctors would let her in, she brushed shoulders with a guy walking through the corridors. She wasn't going to stop, not even to politely apologise, until he spoke._

"_Careful there, Teresa."_

_She knew the voice all too well from his countless television statements and interviews. Slowly, on guard, she turned. His perfect hair and false friendliness made her bristle._

"_Special Agent Lisbon," she corrected, with an equally fake smile. "I'm sorry, it's Mr. Allan, right?"_

_As if she didn't know. _

"_Yes, that's right. Are you off to see Mr. Jane?"_

_Lisbon's mind ran through a number of responses, from a curt 'yes', to simply 'fuck you'. _

"_I don't think that's really anything to do with you," she finally said, dropping any pretence. "Am I even meant to be talking to you?"_

_At his smirk, she raised her eyebrows, turned on her heel, and left._

_In hindsight, the situation could have been handled better._

Striding into the lobby of the hospital, she tried to forget about the lawyer, as though positive thoughts would somehow help Jane recover. When she stepped into the room, Grace, Rigsby and Cho were already there.

"How you doing, boss?" Rigsby asked.

"Fine, thank you," she briskly replied. It really was beginning to get on her nerves, and they could sense it.

"Well, I think I need to go home and get some rest," Grace decided aloud. "… Wayne?"

"Great idea."

Lisbon rolled her eyes at Cho when they left.

"They make me want to throw up."

Cho raised his eyebrows. No longer looking at Cho, but at the man in the bed behind him, she continued, barely noticing herself speak.

"Jane once told me I was bitter and jealous of their happiness," she laughed. "Typical. I never asked him if he was jealous… having lost them… I'd kind of forget, you know? That he had a wife… a child. When he was just… Jane."

Cho put his hand on her shoulder. "Good night, Lisbon. See you tomorrow."

Once he'd left, she sat at the side of Jane's bed, staring at his serene expression.

"What would you say?" she asked him. "If you knew what was going on."

He'd be angry, she thought. Really, really angry. The thought didn't make her feel any better, so she tried to call back memories of them together, times he'd made her laugh, or when he said that if he were dying he'd call her – she'd been pissed off at the time, but treasured it all the same. Not that the thought of him dying was good in any way, shape or form. She moved away from that, remembering when he'd pretended to stumble and she'd caught him, and the necklace he bought her, and… suddenly, she was crying.

She reached out to hold his hand, for the small comfort it would give her. She hadn't really cried about the whole thing, to her relief, but in the end it was only thinking about Jane that could cause that kind of reaction. Tightening her grip, she willed his eyes to open, and then when they didn't, leant down over him to kiss the top of his head.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed their, her lips pressed against his forehead, her tears rolling into his hair.

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**Sorry it's been so long. Still, spare a line or two?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own Adrian Allan and Rose Oliver and other unnamed OCs and stuff, but if you recognise it from the show... I own those too, why not? I'm tired of hiding my secret identity. **

**A/N: Skipped on to the court case, the rest is getting boring. Jane is still unconscious in hospital, for those who care (which I'd hope would be all of you). **

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"Will the prosecution make an opening statement?"

"Yes, Your Honour," Adrian Allan said smoothly, sweeping up his papers and standing to face the jury. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are all inclined to be compassionate. And yes, the story I tell will inspire compassion. The federal agent on trial today is not a bad person, nor is she a born murderer. But, she is a murderer. Maybe we would all be tempted, if someone we were close to had been put through so much, to take vengeance on the person who'd caused their pain. Was Red John, as we have come to know him, a twisted, evil man? Yes. Was Teresa Lisbon _justified _to kill him? Perhaps. However, you are not here to judge the morality of her actions. The decision you will have to make, at the end of this trial, is do you believe Teresa Lisbon acted in self-defence, as she will claim? Or do you believe, as I do, that the murder, for which she shows no remorse, was cold-blooded and premeditated? Because who, when they had formed such a close bond with Patrick Jane, could really resist the urge to put an end to his misery? Ladies and Gentlemen, I urge you to view the evidence with a critical, unbiased eye, with absolute confidence that the verdict you reach will be the same as mine."

The jury listened intently, some even took notes.

"Will the defence make an opening statement?"

"Yes, Your Honour," Rose Oliver replied, getting to her feet. Lisbon liked her lawyer, thankfully, otherwise this process could have been so much harder. The young woman obviously hated Allan with a vengeance, but she decided not to ask what the history was there. "Ladies and Gentleman of the Jury, Teresa Lisbon shot and killed Josh Sylvester, better known as Red John. She did not lie about this fact."

Lisbon managed to continue looking up, and not show any sign that she had, in fact, lied.

"She did not hide this. She is an upstanding federal agent with great respect for and faith in the law. What happened was something that happens every day in law enforcement: a criminal was threatening her and her team, and she was forced to choose between his life and theirs. Ladies and Gentlemen, it isn't a hard choice, it is one they are taught to make, and if the criminal were not such a high profile case, no one would doubt her testimony. I intend to show you over the course of this trial that there is no reason to doubt her, that it was self defence, and that anyone claiming otherwise is a conspiracy theorist who cannot see the wood for the trees."

There was a barely audible laugh from the gallery at her audacity – after all, the person who first brought the theory to light was the prosecution lawyer. Lisbon smiled briefly at Rose, whose lips twitched upward.

"The prosecution may call its first witness."

"The prosecution calls Grace Van Pelt."

Lisbon's eyes widened in shock. She'd had no idea that Grace was going to be called to testify against her, and couldn't think why. Van Pelt was led out, and she couldn't help being proud of her agent, who looked proud and met Adrian Allan's eye squarely and defiantly. In a way though, she understood that would work in his favour. If he could get Grace to say something against Lisbon, even when it was obvious that they weren't on the best of terms themselves… she theorised like this as Van Pelt was sworn in.

"Agent Van Pelt."

"Mr. Allan."

"Can you state your name and rank for the Court?"

"Grace Van Pelt, Junior Field Agent at the California Bureau of Investigation."

"Thank you."

They went through all the formalities, Grace confirmed that she, along with Cho and Rigsby, had been first to arrive on the scene, shortly before the paramedics.

"Can you describe the position you found Mr. Jane and Agent Lisbon in?"

She knew what he was implying, and resolutely ignored it.

"Jane had been shot and was unconscious, Lisbon seemed fine."

"Were they together?"

It was all Rose needed. "Objection, Your Honour! Leading the witness."

The judge looked sceptical. "I'll allow it, but be careful Mr. Allan."

"Yes, Lisbon was with him, trying to stop the bleeding."

Lisbon couldn't have been more grateful for Van Pelt at that moment. She'd 'forgotten' the detail about Lisbon clinging onto Jane's hand.

"When the paramedics arrived, what happened?"

"They took Jane into the ambulance."

"Did anyone ride with him?"

"Yes, Lisbon rode with him."

"I see. Would you say Lisbon cares about Mr. Jane?"

"Of course, we all do."

Rose tensed, but let it slip, Van Pelt had answered before she'd decided whether it was worth objecting that the witness was not a psychological expert.

"Would you say she cares about him more than you or other members of the team?"

"Objecti-"

"I withdraw the question. Does Lisbon spend more time with Mr. Jane than other members of the team?"

"Lisbon and Jane usually partner each other," she admitted, grudgingly.

"And did they see each other outside of work?"

The judge saved Rose the decision of whether to object. "The witness cannot be expected to know that, Mr. Allan."

"_To the best of your knowledge,_ Agent Van Pelt, same question."

"To the best of my knowledge, they do not," Grace replied, even though she was pretty damn sure they did.

"In your opinion what was the nature of their relationship?"

"They were work partners."

"Not friends?"

"Well… I suppose."

Lisbon could tell she was beginning to deflate a bit.

"More than friends?"

"No."

"They didn't have a sexual relationship?"

"No."

"Does Lisbon love Jane? No, I withdraw the question. As the defence is about to point out," he said, in the most scathing tone he could summon, "there is absolutely no way you could possibly know that."

And just like that, Lisbon realised, he had the jury convinced that Jane and she were lovers.

Fantastic.

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**Reviews pretty please.  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.**

**A/N: I am sorry I am so so so so so so so sorry. I've had a looong break from FF. Far longer than I intended. And I greatly apologise.**

**A/N2: So as of Strawberries and Cream, this fic has become AU. So yeah, now it's an AU fic. There you go then.**

**A/N3: Talking of Strawberries and Cream, LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE. And lol at how *spoiler alert* Red John in my story is called JOSH Sylvester, and Red John in the program was played by Bradley Whitford who played JOSH Lyman. And is absolutely AMAZING, in both of the roles mentioned here.**

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Up on the witness stand, Grace was visibly shell-shocked. She'd spent all night rehearsing how to present the story, the lie, in the best light possible for Lisbon, but she couldn't possibly have predicted the aptitude with which Adrian Allan would be able to twist her words and lead the jury's opinion. Looking straight at Lisbon, she tried to silently apologise. Lisbon nodded very slightly at her, she understood.

"Agent Van Pelt," began Allan again, and she gathered herself to face more of his questions.

"Yes, Mr Allan?"

"What do you know about the relationship between Lisbon and Sam Bosco?"

"They were old colleagues."

"And friends?"

This was beginning to sound familiar. "So far as I know, they got on well together."

"I've heard it was a little more than that."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there, Mr Allan, I can only testify to what I observed."

She might have been imagining it, but Grace liked to think his smirk tightened a little at that moment.

"And what did you observe, Agent Van Pelt?"

"That they got on well together," she replied, biting the inside of her lip so she wouldn't smile.

"So they _got on well together._" Allan said, placing an emphasis on the words. "And Agent Bosco was killed by Red John, was he not?"

"No, he was not."

Allan raised his eyebrows, but she didn't add any more to her answer.

"Then whom was he killed by?"

"Agent Bosco and his team were murdered by his assistant, Rebecca."

With a glace over at the jury, Allan asked, "Who was working on Red John's orders?"

"To the best of our knowledge," she replied, stealing his phrase from before.

"And so, with what he had done to Patrick Jane and Agent Bosco, it could be said that Teresa Lisbon had a strong motive to murder Red John."

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry," said Grace. "Was that a question, Mr Allan?"

His jaw clenched slightly. "No. No further questions, Your Honour."

"Would the defence like to cross examine the witness?"

"Yes, Your Honour," said Rose Oliver, getting to her feet as Adrian Allan sat. "How long have you been working with Agent Lisbon?"

"Nearly three years," Grace replied, feeling a lot more comfortable now that she was talking to someone on Lisbon's side.

"And would you say you know her well?"

"I like to think so."

"And Patrick Jane?"

"Yes."

Rose smiled encouragingly at her. "So you must have heard Jane's plans for revenge."

"More than once," Grace replied dryly, remembering the distorted mimicry of Patrick Jane that would appear whenever a Red John case cropped up.

"And how did Lisbon react to these plans?"

Grace smiled. "She always told him that when we caught Red John, we were bringing him in. Alive, so that justice could be served. They argued about it a few times."

"You would say Teresa Lisbon has faith in the justice system?"

"Definitely."

"No further questions, Your Honour."

The court took a recess for lunch, and Lisbon joined Grace, Rigsby, Cho and Rose in a café across the street from the courthouse.

"I'm so sorry," was the first thing Grace said, flinging her arms around her boss. "I did the best I could."

Lisbon hugged her back awkwardly. "You did good, Van Pelt. Don't worry."

Rigsby put a hand on his girlfriend's back. He wished he could have watched, but being a witness himself, it wasn't allowed. "Lisbon's right, Grace, I'm sure you handled it really well. And at least you can see the rest of the case. Now, are we eating?"

The familiarity of Rigsby wanting food provoked laughter from the whole team, with Rose just watching in confusion and amusement.

"How do you think it's going, Rose?" Cho asked as they sat with their meals.

"It's going as well as can be expected," she answered honestly. "Lisbon's closeness to both Jane and Bosco was always going to be thing in this trial, it's pretty good that it's come up so close to the beginning, the jury will probably have gotten used to it by the time they have to reach a verdict. And Grace _did _cope well, I've seen people completely crumble faced with Adrian Allan, she got a few hits in of her own."

"That's my girl," Rigsby grinned.

Cho and Lisbon caught each other's eye and glanced away quickly, stifling their laughter.

When they got back into the courtroom, the afternoon was pretty much exactly how Rose had told Lisbon it would be. Having started with a splash, by calling Grace, Allan now just brought in small witness after small witness; random people who worked at the CBI (some of whom Lisbon had never even seen, she was sure), people he'd somehow managed to drag up that they'd met on cases. They were all there to confirm one of two things, or sometimes both – 1) Jane very much wanted Red John dead and 2) Lisbon cared about Jane deeply. Rose made it clear from her body language what a waste of time she thought this was, and declined to cross examine all but one of them, a particularly annoying CBI employee who claimed she was "sure" Lisbon and Jane were sleeping together.

"What makes you so sure of this, Miss Field?"

"They're always laughing together," she said defensively. "Or bickering, all cute. Exactly like a couple."

"Not actions that could also be attributed to them being colleagues and friends?"

"And," Isla Field said, "they left the office together at the end of the day a lot."

"Wow," Rose replied. "They got in the same car?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, I saw them getting on the elevator."

"Right. So it's possible that they were just leaving the office at the same _time_?"

"Not likely," the witness replied weakly.

"Mm. And is it not true that most nights Patrick Jane would sleep in the office?"

"Not every night," she said.

"Still," said Rose, a hint of laughter creeping into her voice, "does that seem like the actions of a man who could be going home with Teresa Lisbon? No further questions, Your Honour."

As soon as she could leave the court, Lisbon headed straight for the hospital. There was a crowd of reporters at the door – she wondered if they were the same wolves that had chased her out of the courtroom. It seemed unlikely, but hey, all hacks looked the same to her.

"Teresa!" they called, baying for blood.

She found it very hard to remember that they were just doing their jobs.

"Teresa!"

"Teresa!"

"Teresa!"

As she reached the doors of the ICU at last – her safe haven, where they wouldn't be allowed in to talk to her, she turned round. Silence fell, as with baited breath they waited for her first comment to the press.

"It's Agent Lisbon," she said firmly, and then disappeared through the doors to a chorus of disappointed groans.

She sat by Jane's bedside, intending to tell him about the first day of the trial, but finding that she really didn't want to think about it. So she just sat there in silence, cradling one of his hands in both of hers in the manner that had become natural to her.

Eventually a doctor came in to make a note on his chart.

"How's he doing?" Lisbon asked.

The doctor smiled. "A lot better. We're seeing a lot of increased brain activity. I can't make any promises, but it seems likely that Mr Jane will wake up in the not too distant future."

Lisbon smiled her first real smile in weeks. Suddenly the complicated situation didn't matter, it was of no consequence that she was being tried for murdering a man she'd lied about killing at all, that her life rested in the hands of twelve jurors who didn't know anything about her and were listening now to the persuasive tones of Adrian Allan. For the first time since this whole mess had started, she felt, if not happy, at least hopeful.

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**Sooo, I won't blame anyone who chooses not to review in retaliation from my long and unannounced hiatus. But I'd really like to hear what you thought :).**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Only in my fantasies, I'm afraid.**

**A/N: SO HOW MUCH QUICKER WAS THIS? You've gotta be impressed. We're getting to the good stuff now. **

**A/N2: For Tiva4evaxxx, good luck for the next batch!**

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The trial was taking a break for the weekend, and Lisbon couldn't have been more grateful. Being made out as a murderer consistently for a whole week was very tiring. Rose had done well, but there was no doubt that Allan was a skilled attorney, and she wouldn't have blamed the jury if they were convinced of her guilt already. The courtroom was becoming very familiar to her, it was with only a little discomfort now that she sat in the defendant's chair – and that scared her. She only had to get through one more day before she had a break...

"How you feeling, Agent Lisbon?" Rose asked kindly, offering her a coffee.

Lisbon took it gratefully. "As well as can be expected," she shrugged, taking a gulp. "And really, you can drop the 'agent'."

Rose smiled. "Yeah, okay. Today's line up is expert witnesses. Psychologists to testify you could have killed Josh Sylvester in cold blood, that sort of thing."

Nodding, Lisbon said, "Josh Sylvester... it still feels weird to have a name to put to him."

"Yes, I suppose it must. I imagine Mr Jane will have to do a lot of readjusting when he wakes up."

One of the things Lisbon liked about Rose was that, even when things had been really bad for Jane, she'd always said 'when'.

"Yeah, to a lot of things. It'll be hard for him, chasing Red John has been his life's purpose for eight years," Lisbon replied, mentally adding _except that brief period when he was in a mental hospital._

"Do you think he'll keep working with you guys?"

"I don't know," she paused. "I hope so."

"You guys are close, aren't you?"

Lisbon raised her eyebrows at the woman. "You've been listening to Adrian Allan, Miss Oliver," she joked.

"Adrian Allan is a very clever man. A sleazy sonofabitch, but very clever all the same."

"Jane and I are colleagues," Lisbon told her, "and good friends. We've been through a lot. But that's all. You and Adrian Allan however, have some history."

She'd brought up personal things first, Lisbon thought, in her own defence. Rose raised her hands in surrender.

"Okay, I won't ask any more about it. Private lives private?" offered Rose.

"Deal."

Lisbon knew from a little research she'd done that Rose's first job had been for Adrian Allan, and combined with the sexual harrassment claims Grace had told her about, she could fill in the blanks for herself.

"The prosecution calls Dr William Heart."

The prominent and respected psychologist took the stand and was sworn in. Although they had offered to accept him as an expert witness, Allan made a point of going through his credentials – his qualifications, his awards, his experience. It certainly drove the point him, but Lisbon watched with slight smugness as the jury seemed to go from paying him their absolute attention to slack jawed boredom – and she was sure some were doodling in their notepads.

"So it would be safe to say you are an expert in your field, Dr Heart?"

"Yes, I should say so," replied the man.

"Excellent. Then could you tell us how people can be effected by trauma in the lives of people they are close to?"

"Well, imagine your friend calls you to tell you that their friend has just died in a tragic accident. You didn't know the person, but of course you're upset. Now with murder, the aspect of intent makes it far more traumatic."

"And this applies even if they met after the trauma?" Allan asked, and Lisbon wondered why he wasn't just referring to her and Jane by their names.

"With something so incomprehensible as the massacre of Patrick Jane's family, undoubtedly."

_Ah, there you go,_ Lisbon thought.

"Undoubtedly," Allan repeated, for emphasis. "And so Mr Jane's past would have taken it's toll on Agent Lisbon?"

"I would say it has traumatised her too. She has come to care so deeply for Patrick Jane that she feels some of the horror he has been through. And some is enough, especially for someone such as Teresa Lisbon."

Lisbon took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back. She knew what was coming, and was determined to appear strong through it.

"And what do you mean by that, Dr Heart?" Allan said, faking a slight confused tone to his voice.

"Her mother was killed by a drunk driver when she was a child. He walked free. Her father became a drunk, and according to her psychologist's notes, was most likely abusive, and later killed himself after brandishing a gun at Teresa and her three younger brothers. She is a very damaged individual."

She could hear indrawn breaths and gasps from the gallery, and she hated it. Rose would no doubt say it was a good thing for them to sympathise with her, but she hated all these people knowing everything. It was private, for god's sake. She'd buried it for so long. And the "her pyschologist" part made it sound as though she was crazy.

"The drunk driver who killed her mother walked free? What effect would that have on Lisbon's view of the judicial system?" Allan asked.

She hated his voice so much.

"It could easily have made her very cynical. It undoubtedly influenced her decision to go into law enforcement, indicating a 'if you want something done right, do it yourself' attitude."

"What do you think happened when Josh Sylvester was murdered, Dr Heart?"

"Objection!" said Rose, leaping to her feet.

Adrian Allan turned to her and inclined his head in false apology.

"What do you think happened when Josh Sylvester was shot and killed, Dr Heart?"

"While I can't testify to that without having been present," the doctor began, covering his own ass, "It is likely that Teresa Lisbon's emotional link to Jane's loss caused a very deep anger at Red John, which, combined with the judicial system having already failed her once, could easily have caused her to take the opportunity to create her own justice."

"Thank you. No further questions, Your Honour."

"Would the defense like to cross examine the witness?"

Rose stood, pushing her legal pad to the side. "Yes, Your Honour."

Lisbon glanced down at the pad that was now in front of her, to see, between the notes, a scrawled _'Ouch, don't worry, I'll fix this :)". _She couldn't quite see how, but it was reassuring.

"When you say 'according to her psychologist's notes', you refer to the CBI psychologist Agent Lisbon saw after a trying case?"

Trying case was a mild way to put it, but Lisbon was glad she didn't say "after Patrick Jane shot a man who was his only chance at finding Red John to save Agent Lisbon's life". It wouldn't have helped her case much.

"Yes."

"Right. So you are referring to a man convicted of homocide?"

"Umm, I..."

"Who drugged Agent Lisbon in an attempt to frame her for murder?"

"I wouldn't know."

"I can assure you it's true. And she didn't murder anyone that time round either," Rose said dryly, and it was all Lisbon could do not to laugh. "Is it possible that Lisbon's mother's death, followed by the driver being released without charges, could have made her want to strive to achieve justice?"

"It could also cause her to think of killing Red John _as _justice," he said, not giving up easily.

"It couldn't have made her want to contribute to improving the _legal _justice system?"

"Possibly," was all he said.

"And you could say she's been doing that for years, in unwavering and highly commended service to law enforcement?" Before he could answer, she smiled. "No further questions, Your Honour."

The court broke for lunch.

"I'll meet you in the lobby," Rose said, with an understanding smile. She'd seen plenty people react worse than Lisbon to having every tragedy of their lives dragged up in front of a room crowded with strangers and journalists.

Lisbon nodded her thanks and rushed to the bathroom, managing to lock herself in a cubicle before she began to cry.

The afternoon's witness was due to be a forensic scientist, which Lisbon wasn't quite so worried about. She was fairly sure nothing would show that Jane was the one who had killed Red John, and since she had already said that she shot him, there should be no surprises. She wondered how Cho was doing at the hospital – she'd had him or Rigsby there during the day ever since Jane's prognosis had improved.

Cho sat in a chair with his feet up on the side of Jane's bed, his head in his book. Hospital duty wasn't the most exciting thing in the world, but his loyalty to Lisbon as well as his friendship with Jane kept him there. He glanced up as he flipped the page. Then he put his book down. He'd thought... he must have been imagining it. And then it happened again.

Jane's eyes flickered open. He kept blinking, eyes open for steadily longer stretches each time, until he could keep them wide, staring up.

"Man, are you really awake?"

Jane made a noise. Cho hurriedly poured him a glass of water from the table and helped to prop him up so he could drink it.

"Thanks," he rasped, still sounding slightly drowsy.

"No problem, man."

"Cho? I did it, didn't I? I killed the bastard?"

Cho sighed. He hadn't wanted to have to explain what Lisbon had done. He stood and deliberately closed the door that the last nurse had left propped open.

"No," he said firmly. "No, you didn't."

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**Dun dun .**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I've bought it. Wonder how much that would cost. Hmm.**

**A/N: I've been waiting for this chapter for so long! If you like this fic, and you like Jisbon but you also like angst, then you have too, so I won't keep you any longer!**

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Lisbon had five missed calls from Cho. She listened to the message as soon as she got out of court, and rushed immediately to the hospital without going home to change as she usually would. She wanted to sprint through the hospital, but reporters were still hanging around the hospital – surely they were sick and tired of her team's resilient silence? They would know something was wrong if she ran, so she forced herself to walk calmly until she reached Jane's room. Cho was waiting outside.

"He wanted time to think," the loyal man explained.

Lisbon managed to smile at him – he was doing so much for her, they all were.

"Thanks, Cho. You can go home if you want, you've been hear all day."

"Yeah, I will. Good luck, boss."

"Thanks, I'll need it."

This was worse than her first day in court. She felt as though she were going to throw up. With that horrible feeling of having to do something you really don't want to, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Jane was livid. She could tell. His jaw clenched the moment he saw her, and he probably hadn't even noticed that his fists were clenched tightly, his knuckles white. She took a deep breath.

"Cho told me what you did," was all he said, his voice quiet and dangerous.

"I know."

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"You shot him with my gun. It's perfectly plausible that I could have shot him in the line of duty. Better I get a few shrink sessions than you go to prison for the rest of your life."

She decided to stick to the logical explanations, rather than her motives, which were considerably more blurred.

"And now you could go to prison for the rest of your life," Jane said flatly. "Why didn't you come clean when you got charged?"

"And be done for obstruction?" she asked.

"Better than murder." he replied.

"I'm not going to be found guilty," Lisbon said, hoping to god she was right.

"You can't know that," said Jane, shaking his head. "I won't let you do it."

"Yes you will. Because if you don't, you'll go to prison and so will I."

"I wish you wouldn't, but it's your own fault," he said coldly, "and you won't go for too long."

"You will!" she yelled, snapping.

"I'm willing to accept that!" he shouted back at her. "I've _always _been willing to accept that! I _happily _would have gone to prison without your interference!"

"What if _I'm _not willing, Jane?" demanded Lisbon. "What if _I _don't _want _you to go to prison?"

"That's not your decision to make! It's not your life, it has nothing to do with you!"

"It's not my life," she agreed, "but it has everything to do with me. When you share your life with other people, you can't just do what the hell you like with it. When there are people who," she paused for breath as an 'l' nearly slipped out of her mouth, "care about you, you have to take them into consideration, if you care about _them! _If you don't then I guess you're free to do what you damn well please!"

"Great, I'll do that then!"

Lisbon gasped and stepped back, feeling as though someone had punched her in the stomach.

_He can't love you, Teresa. Not like you love him. _She heard Red John's words in her head, even more cutting than ever before. _I don't love him, _she told herself, again. _I don't love him, I don't love him, I don't love... _she stared at the man in front of her, confined to his hospital bed, linked up to machines, fury glaring out of his eyes, straight at her. She remembered those eyes sparkling with mischief and delight – and the memory helped in some ways and in others hurt even more. She stared at this man, who she'd visited every day for months, who she was going through a murder trial for. _I don't love... I don't... shit. _Well he sure as hell didn't feel the same way – it was abundantly clear that he had only used her to achieve his revenge.

She took a few steps forward to his bedside table, aware of his eyes on her, and picked up a picture of the team and Jane together, smiling. It was the first thing she'd brought for him.

"I'll have this back then," she said, and walked out the door.

...

Lisbon didn't want to answer the door. But she'd spent the last few hours in a foetal position in her dark bedroom, crying. So it seemed only right to drag herself up when the doorbell went. She peeked through the peephole to check it wasn't a journalist, but it was only Van Pelt.

"Cho told you to come by, didn't he?" she said, opening the door.

"Guilty," admitted Grace. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No," Lisbon said, realising she was hungry.

"Good, I brought take out."

"Are we really doing this, Van Pelt?" she groaned, letting the junior agent in.

"Yes, we really are," she said firmly. "How's Jane?"

"Awake."

"And mad," Grace guessed.

"We had a fight," Lisbon said, helping to open the food. "He wants to tell everyone what really happened."

"You have to see it from his point of view," said Grace. "He feels like his family's deaths were his fault, he finally gets revenge, now you're in danger of going to prison and that's his fault too."

"That didn't seem to be how he sees it. His words were "it's your own fault" actually."

"In the context of you going to prison for murdering Red John?" asked Grace, sceptical.

Lisbon scowled at her. "In the context of me going to prison for obstruction if he goes public."

"Well that's not quite the same."

"If you're just going to have a go at me, get out."

Grace raised her hands in surrender. Then she spotted the photo that Lisbon had taken back from Jane's room.

"Wow. Big argument."

"It was clear he had no use for the photo," Lisbon shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

Lisbon snorted. "He doesn't care about us, Van Pelt. The team, any of us. It was only ever about revenge – I thought there might be some form of friendship there too, but I was being naive."

Grace gave Lisbon a strange look, contemplating something. Then her brow smoothed as she seemed to come to a realisation, and her mouth dropped slightly open.

"You worked it out," she said, sounding shocked.

"What, that Jane's a selfish asshole?"

"No, not that, and he isn't. He does love you too, you know."

Lisbon nearly choked. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Van Pelt."

"Right, sorry," Grace said, sounding a little nervous but not very sorry at all. "Let's turn on the TV and eat."

They didn't mention it again.

...

Jane sat alone in his hospital bed. He was tired, he was tired all the time at the moment, but he hadn't been able to sleep since Lisbon had visited. The satisfaction of getting his revenge at last had passed as soon as Cho told him everything that had happened. He couldn't remember being that angry with someone who wasn't Red John, or maybe his dad. How could that have possibly seemed like a good idea?

He shouldn't have implied he didn't care about her, he knew that, but he had been so furious... and then she had gone, just turned her back on him... and she'd taken his picture. He glanced across to his bedside table where it should be, feeling the loss sharply, even though he'd barely had a chance to glance at it.

He missed his photograph.

And he missed her.

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**What do you all think? Realistic(ish)?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own but, but I adore it!**

**A/N: So it's been another pretty long wait (though not as long as between chapters 6 and 7 I think), however this chapter is about double the length of usual if that helps? Hope you like it xD. I have to say I was pretty mean to Lisbon here...but hey, this whole story is pretty mean to her.**

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Jane lay with his eyes shut, not wanting to admit to himself that he was awake. His head hurt like hell, and he didn't know if it were physical or psychological. But eventually it was painful enough that he forced his eyes open and reached over to click the painkiller button they'd given him. Rigsby was sitting by his bedside.

"Hey."

There was no reaction, and he noticed that his visitor had earphones in and his eyes closed. Jane tried to lift his hand to tap Rigsby's shoulder, but it felt heavy and the effort was too much.

"Rigsby!" he said as loudly as he could, hurting his throat.

Rigsby's eyes opened a crack and he pulled out the earphones.

"Oh, you're awake," he said, with no particular emotion, standing to pour Jane a glass of water. He helped the bedridden man to drink it, and then sat down again, reaching for his iPod.

"So you're all pissed at me now?" Jane asked. "What are you doing here then?"

Rolling his eyes, Rigsby replied, "Lisbon said one of us should be at your bedside every day. She hasn't adapted that order...yet. So I'm here."

"Come on, you can't be happy that she's doing this," Jane said, hating the pleading tone that crept into his voice, but he could really do with some support.

Rigsby laughed dryly. "Happy? No, I'm mad as hell, she should have let you rot in prison. But she asked for my support and she has it, and your support is the least you could give her. How many times has she done things she didn't want to because you said please?"

"But she could ruin her whole life, she's risking everything..."

"And she's risked it for you before, gone against rules, her boss, the number of times she could have lost her job... this is the first time you've had a problem with it," Rigsby looked at Jane critically. "At least be consistent, dude," he finished, plugging in his earphones and closing his eyes again.

…

Lisbon couldn't put a name to most of the things she was feeling, but she knew none of them were good. Worry that she'd be found guilty was in there, but for the first time since the trial had begun, it was in the back of her mind. Mostly her thoughts circled around Jane, and nothing she did to divert them would work. Picturing the way his shining blue eyes had hardened sent a physical pain through her chest, his cold words repeated constantly in her head, replacing Red John's and hurting even more than the serial killer's last attempt to cause pain. She didn't quite know the words to describe the feeling. She wouldn't say she was heartbroken – but then Lisbon would never say something like that.

The weekend was all a bit of a blur, her much needed break from being on trial was mostly spent wanting Monday to come around and distract her. She didn't go back to the hospital. Grace, bless her, visited every night to make sure she ate at least one meal a day, and then again on Monday morning to ensure she turned up to court. There was no need for that though. She was ready to get this over with.

...

Adrian Allan ran his fingers through his hair in the court toilets, making sure that he looked flawless for his star performance – the last day of the prosecution's case. Might not even take the whole day, who knew? He smirked. The man standing next to him looked horribly nervous.

"Relax," he said, "all you have to do is tell the truth. Teresa would never want you to lie in court, would she? Now go on, get to the witness room before someone sees us talking here, it's not a good way to start."

He walked into the already filling courtroom. Agent Lisbon was sitting in the defendant's chair already, and Allan couldn't resist shooting her his most charming smile. She raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes in dismissal. He just smiled wider. Today he felt pretty untouchable.

"All rise."

The judge walked in and motioned that they should sit.

"Mr Allan, would you care to begin?"

He stood, nodding curtly and trying to hide his excitement. Court had always been thrilling for Adrian, especially these moments of high tension. Not that anyone aside from him knew yet that it was one of those moments. He savoured the moment.

"The prosecution calls Thomas Lisbon to the stand."

Behind him he heard Teresa Lisbon breath in sharply, and resisted the temptation to turn around and see the look on her face. He couldn't afford to screw this up.

…

Lisbon watched as Tommy was led to the stand and sworn in, trying to stop the tears from rising up when he met her eyes. There was no doubt to anyone in the room that this was Lisbon's brother, with the same small frame, the same dark shade of hair that he'd obviously done his best to tame – it had always been a mess, since he was a little boy – and identical green eyes that searched out Lisbon and stared directly at hers.

_I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't have a choice._

She knew what he was trying to say immediately, and banished her irrational anger – obviously he couldn't refuse to testify. Shrugging, she even tried a small smile, and was relieved to see her little brother's hands stop shaking a little. Pity rushed through her, and anger. She turned to glare at Allan, but he had his back to her. Asshole.

"Hello Tommy," he said softly. "Can I call you Tommy?"

_No, you can't, _thought Lisbon.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Tommy replied.

"Thanks. And thanks for coming today. I appreciate this is hard for you, but I need to ask you a few questions about your sister."

Lisbon wondered what the hell the patronising tone was for, but obviously Allan wanted to be seen as compassionate, since he was trying to make her little brother testify against her.

"Yeah... I got that far," said Tommy, his voice stronger though still unsure.

She almost could have laughed.

Allan did laugh, quietly. "Fair enough. How old were you when your mother passed?"

"I was eight, Teri was eleven."

It was obvious he hadn't had the courtroom training that other witnesses had, answering more than the question required. He sounded so innocent up there, she wanted to kill Allan for dragging him into this.

"And your other brothers?"

"Five and six."

"How did she die?"

Why were they going through this again?

"It was a car accident, a drunk driver," Tommy answered, his eyes sliding over to Lisbon.

"And the driver was never punished, is that correct?"

"There was a technicality," he said, with a brief frown, "I don't know, something legal, you probably understand better than I do. But yes, that's correct."

"How do you think Teresa took that?"

"She was upset... angry. None of us understood why it happened that way. We were just kids."

"Did she ever express a desire for revenge?"

"She... I don't remember. I was very young."

Lisbon closed her eyes, resting her head in her hands. Poor boy, he'd never been a good liar.

"And how did your father respond to what happened?"

"He drank... a lot. Lost his job."  
"Was he ever abusive?"

"Sometimes."

"Towards all of you?"

Oh dear god, she'd thought the psychologist's testimony was difficult.

"Yes, all of us."

"Any more than the others?"

"Teri protected us. When she could. She did her best."

"And who looked after you?"

"Teri."

"That can't have been easy for her."

"No, it wasn't."

Allan looked more serious now, trying (and annoyingly succeeding) to look tough but fair, paternal.

"You didn't make it any easier on her, Tommy, did you?"

His shoulders sunk and he hung his head a little. "No. I got involved with the wrong people when I was a teenager. Petty crimes, vandalism, shop lifting, drinking... drugs eventually."

_Oh Tommy, plead the fifth, you don't need to talk about that. _But of course he didn't know to do that – sure, Tommy had been in court in the past, but he was usually high or in withdrawal at the time, hardly a seasoned criminal.

"That's a big burden to put on your sister."

"I know," now he stared directly at Lisbon. "I was selfish. If I could change it I would."

"Okay Tommy, well that's all in the past, I just wanted to get a picture of Teresa's life after her mother's death. Can you tell me about your dad's suicide?"

"I don't see how..." Tommy faltered.

Lisbon winced. Her brother was too young to remember their mom's death clearly. Obviously the years of abuse had taken a massive toll, but it was the day he was now being asked to recall that would be the most horrible in Tommy's memory.

"Your Honour, I need to establish how Agent Lisbon's history would affect her view of justice," Adrian Allan explained.

"I'll allow it. Please answer the question, Mr Lisbon."

Tommy rubbed his forehead, frowning. "Okay, well, I was fourteen, and um, I'd be out all night. I got back home probably around seven in the morning? Too late, anyway, I'd planned to be back before Teri woke up but I... lost track of time. She was waiting for me, she was worried... and she just gave me this tired look and told me to go to bed. I went upstairs, I was still a little out of it, I walked into the wrong room – into my parent's, my dad's, I mean, bedroom. And he was sitting on the bed, holding a picture of mom and him from their wedding, crying, and he had a gun in his hand." Tommy took a deep breath. "I backed away, tried to leave without him noticing, but he heard me, and he stood up and pointed the gun straight at me. Teri came up the stairs, to check on me I guess, and saw me standing out in the corridor, frozen. She said 'Tommy, what the hell?' or something like that, but I couldn't speak, I was terrified. She walked over to me and then she saw. She reacted better than I did, didn't lose her wits for a second, pushed me out of the way and started to talk to him, to try and calm him. Our little brothers woke up, walked out... I tried to keep them away but they saw the gun. Dad stepped out of his room, he was waving it around, pointing it at us. Teri stood in front of us, tried to sheild us all. She kept talking to him in this low voice. If you didn't know her, you'd think she wasn't scared. She tired to convince him there was a future, for us all as a family, kept telling him we were his kids, that mom wouldn't want him to do this, that sort of thing. He stopped pointing the gun at us and put it against his head. Teri begged him not to, but I think she knew she didn't stand a chance, she told us not to look... I covered the others' eyes, but I couldn't turn away..."

He fell silent and Lisbon knew he was replaying those seconds in his head, the same way she was, their dad's quiet words - "Forgive me" - before he pulled the trigger and his brains splattered against the was a moment of calm, and then Tommy had started to scream.

"Then what happened?" prodded Allan.

Tommy gathered himself to say, in the strongest voice he'd managed since taking the stand, "He asked us to forgive him, then he shot himself in the head."

"Thank you, Tommy, I appreciate that was difficult for you."

Everyone in the court seemed to release their breath. Lisbon could feel them looking at her – she could feel their pity and she hated it.

"Tommy, why did your sister join the police?"

"Because she thought that was where she could make a difference, she could prevent people from suffering like we did."

"So she blamed your tragic childhood on the drunk driver who killed your mother and was never convicted?"

"I suppose. I think we all did."

_Oh Tommy. Wrong answer. _She felt the ripple of realisatioin around the court – they understood now why Allan had made him relive the whole story, they understood how she could doubt the courts, not trust them to achieve justice for a man who she loved – she was still getting used to that, but the jury seemed pretty convinced of it already. How she could choose to take it into her own hands. Except she hadn't. But that hardly seemed to matter.

"Thank you, Tommy. No further questions, Your Honour."

Rose was on her feet before the judge could ask if she wanted to cross examine.

"Mr Lisbon, what did Teresa do after your father killed himself?"

Tommy frowned. "She called the police."

"Why?"

He shook his head in incomprehension. "She said..." now he understood, and smiled a little. "She said they'd sort it all out."

"You can't have been keen on having the police around, since you were coming down from a drug high?"

Lisbon frowned. She wanted to tell Rose to go easy on him.

"I wasn't. But she called them, and she said to me that I could always trust the police. That they'd do the right thing."

"No further questions, Your Honour."

The judge fixed Rose with a stern look. "Please follow court procedure, Miss Oliver."

"Yes, Your Honour. I'm sorry."

Tommy was dismissed and led from the stand. Adrian Allan stood to state that the prosecution closed it's case. _Oh thank god. _

…

The trial ended for the day, and Lisbon rushed out to find Tommy in the court's lobby. He span around when he heard the footsteps, and she could see that he'd been crying.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

To her shock, Lisbon felt tears in her own eyes as she hugged her brother. "Shush, don't be an idiot, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm sorry you had to go through that." Over his shoulder, she saw Allan leaving the court. "Excuse me a sec. Wait here with my lawyer, okay?"

"Lisbon, don't..." Rose started to say, but she'd already left.

She followed Allan out of the court and called his name, reaching out to grab his shoulder. He turned and the next thing she knew her hand was round his neck, she slammed him against the nearest wall.

"You _ever _come near my family again and I will..." she choked as she realised what she was about to say.

"Kill me?" Allan asked, his smug tone slightly ruined by the croak of being choked, and perhaps even a little fear, but it was still here. "Now that's a big threat to make when you're on trial for murder, Teresa."

"Stay away from my family," she said again, before taking a deep breath and forcing herself to walk away.

* * *

**I actually had more I wanted to write on this, but since it got so long I decided to save it for next chapter, which will hopefully come soon. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Logically, I know there's no point to writing these, but I can't get out of the habit.**

**A/N: This isn't the most eventful chapter of all time, but it is a pretty quick UD! And I hope the next one will come quickly too, as I really really want to write it.**

* * *

Lisbon glanced over at Tommy, making sure he was okay. But her brother looked as well as could be expected, Rigsby was keeping him entertained with lively conversation, loudly joking and acting like he would with any of the friends Lisbon would imagine he had outside of work. She'd have to thank him later. It was strange to have Tommy as part of the group assembed in her living room, otherwise including Rigsby, Grace, Cho and Rose Oliver, but she'd felt compelled to ask him if he wanted to stay with her for a few days, and was glad to have him around. They sat around, sipping at beers and chatting – it felt surprisingly normal, but it wouldn't last long.

"Okay people," said Rose. "Tomorrow we get our turn. Time to hit back."

There were noises of agreement and encouragement from around the room, there was a sense of optimism that stemmed from them all being together, although one presence was notable by it's absence.

"I don't think it's necessary to overload the jury with witnesses – the truth is only three people were in that room. I want to call Rigsby first, and then Cho, both as character witnesses. Your devotion to the justice system, opposition to Jane's plans for vengeance, that sort of thing." She rotated to address the two men. "Allan will cross examine you on Jane and Lisbon's relationship, most likely, but I can't predict what else he might bring up."

"We'll manage," said Cho, nodding once.

"I'm sure you will. After that we'll call an expert witness of our own, a psychologist. He'll need to meet with you tomorrow, Lisbon, if that's okay? He already knows the basics of the case and what his expert opinion will be, but he needs to meet you at least for show."

"Yeah, no problem," Lisbon replied, pushing down the twisting in her stomach that the thought of talking to a psychologist caused.

"Great. What's Jane's prognosis?"

Shrugging, Lisbon tried to suppress the part of her that desperately wanted the answer to that same question.

"He's improved a lot, according to the doctors," said Rigsby, remembering when one had come in to talk to them that day. "He should be able to leave hospital in a week, provided he's very careful, doesn't strain himself, and goes in for regular check ups."

"Excellent. I'll ask court to adjourn till next week and call Jane to the stand."

"Jane?" asked Lisbon sharply.

Rose was visibly confused. "Yeah, well he's the only other person who really _knows _what happened – he'll want to help, right?"

Lisbon, Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt looked around at each other, alarm barely hidden in their expressions.

"Yes," said Lisbon, a little too late. "Of course he'll want to help. I just don't want to put him under any unnecessary stress."

Frowning a little, Rose accepted this explanation even though she could see it was a lie – what she couldn't see was what the truth would possibly be. But she liked to think she'd gotten to know her client, and she knew that if she pushed the matter, Lisbon would just clam up, and her team would do the same.

"Okay, well we'll see what his doctors say but I'm sure he'll want to testify. And after Jane, I'll call you. That gives us a week and a bit to do some last minute prepping. Allan is going to drag up everything he can in the cross examination – your childhood, your relationship with Bosco, your relationship with Jane. He's going to try and get you angry. And he's going to succeed, so you have to learn to hide it. I don't want to know what you said or did to him outside the court today, but I don't want to see any repeats of it."

Lisbon looked down, embarrassed but in no way ashamed. "You got it."

It was later that night, when she was alone in her room, that Lisbon really began to panic about what Jane would say on the stand. She'd been too busy worrying about his health, and then trying not to think about him, being angry about what he'd said. It had left her no time to think about him testifying... she'd almost forgotten he'd have to. Surely he'd come around, stick with her version of events – she pictured the cold anger when she'd walked into his hospital room, and wasn't sure at all.

…

Rigsby and Cho testified the next day. Lisbon was pretty used to the drill by now, though it was odd to have the roles reversed, with Rose calling the witnesses and asking the questions first. She asked them everything that they expected, what was Lisbon like as a boss, how she felt about rules, justice, all that sort of thing. Again and again she went over how much Lisbon had opposed Jane's idea of vengeance. Lisbon just sat and hoped it was getting through to the jury.

Allan's cross examination of Rigsby was pretty much what they'd been led to expect, although far more blunt.

"Agent Rigsby, do you know if Lisbon and Jane were having sex?" was his opening question.

It was obvious that the directness had thrown Rigsby, but he managed to reply that they weren't.

"That's not what I asked, Agent Rigsby, I asked if you _know _whether they were. Uncatagorically, without a doubt in the world, do you know whether they were or weren't?"

"I've never seen any evidence of it."

"But you don't know?"

Rigsby was forced to give up. "No, I suppose I don't."

"Thank you, Agent Rigsby. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Lisbon could see her agent was bristling, and so was proud when he managed to calmly reply, "Is that a rhetorical question, Mr Allan, or do you want an answer?"

Unfortunately, Allan also managed not to rise to the bait, condescendingly saying, "That's quite all right, Agent Rigsby, it was just rhetorical."

He then surprised the court by stating he had no further questions.

Cho didn't get such an easy run of it. After a little of the cross examination they'd expected, Allan changed tack.

"You used to be in a gang, didn't you, Agent Cho?"

Cho nodded, but Allan pressed him to answer aloud for the court.

"Yes I did."

He said so with very little show of emotion, and Lisbon at least felt sure that Allan wouldn't get any reaction out of Cho, no matter how hard he tried.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong, but in a gang you learn it's important to be loyal to your friends, to protect them in any way you can."

Cho didn't reply.

"Agent Cho?"

"You aren't wrong."

"That's not a bad principle to take with you. Do you believe Teresa Lisbon shares it?"

"To an extent," he said, and the message was obvious. She wouldn't break the law.

"And what about you? Would you still protect your friends however you could?"

"To an extent," Cho repeated.

"Would you lie for them in court?"

"Of course not," he said, quickly but not too quickly, calm and self assured.

Damn, the man was the best liar Lisbon had ever met, she thought with just a little pride.

"I think you're lying, Agent Cho. I think you know that Lisbon murdered Red John. I think because she's your friend, your teammate, and because you sympathise with her loyalty to Jane, you agreed to cover for her," throughout this speech his tone became steadily more aggressive. "Am I correct?"

Looking and sounding exceedingly bored, Cho simply said, "No."

"You're lying, Agent Cho."

While anyone else would have denied it, Cho said nothing. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Are we done, Mr Allan?"

Allan wanted to snap back that they'd be done when he _said _they were done, but even though Cho wound him up more than pretty much any other witness he'd questioned, a more rational part of his brain knew that, well, they were done.

"Yes, Agent Cho. No further questions."

…

Even though she didn't want to... well, not really... Lisbon went to the hospital after court closed for the day. Jane looked up as she walked into the room.

"No one was here to hang out with me today," he said, trying to be casual.

"Rigsby and Cho were testifying. Grace wanted to watch.|

"How'd it go?"

She smiled. "Pretty well. They're more than a match for Adrian Allan." After a pause, she said, "Rose wants you to testify next Monday."

"Rose?"

"My lawyer. Will you do it?"

"Yes," this he said with no hesitation.

Lisbon was relieved, but suspicious of the sudden change of heart.

"Of course I'll testify... but Lisbon... Teresa... I haven't decided what to say."

He could see her clenching her jaw, and it was obvious she was making a conscious effort not to turn this into another argument.

"Jane. I need your support here." She stood and cautiously replaced the photo that she'd taken from him before. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it."

Picking up the photo, he smiled at the memory of being out with the team. "Thank you, I missed it."

As she was heading for the door – there seemed little else to talk about with so much unsaid between them that they didn't want to get into – he called her name.

"Yes?"

"I do care. I know I implied I don't. But if I didn't, this would be easy."

She managed a smile, his pleading blue eyes tugging on her heartstrings, then stepped outside the door, breathing heavily and wondering how long it would take her to get over loving him.

* * *

**Poor Lisbon. The pain of unrequited (or she thinks so anyway) love.**


	11. Chapter 11

**. Nvm.**

**A/N: I'm pretty happy with this one! Wrote it on my ridiculously long complex journey today xD. Hope you guys like it too. I've noticed I'm not getting many reviews for all the chapters I'm posting atm, but since I have left you hanging quite a while, I understand that. Besides, I'm on a roll, I'm writing it for myself really at the moment. But anyway, Jisbon fans out there, you're going to like this one (I hope).**

* * *

He was discharged on Sunday. Stepping out into the open air, he took a deep breath, which hurt his chest just a little. Lisbon hadn't visited again, and though he hadn't really expected her too, it still disappointed him. Her lawyer had come to see him. A pleasant young woman, obviously struggling with some past trauma, but smart and capable. She'd told him that the expert psychologist's testimony had gone well, but that anything that really influenced the jury would probably come from him or Lisbon herself. He'd agreed to testify the next day, and they ran through Lisbon's story. He wondered whether to tell her the truth, and held back. He still hadn't made up his mind. How could she even ask this of him? Why the hell had she done it anyway? He felt the flame of a familiar anger flare in his chest. And the guilt. Anger and guilt – a heady combination that had fueled him for years now. And with that thought, he remembered where he was heading.

Once on the bus (he was still forbidden to drive by his doctors), he contemplated his testimony again – he could think of little else. He pictured the way Lisbon would look at him if he told the truth. She would never forgive him. But then he thought of how he'd feel if he allowed her to take the fall for this. He'd never forgive himself. And damnit, she'd done so much for him already, Rigsby had been right about that for sure. She'd carried him for years, protected him to the CBI higher ups, gone along with some of his crazy schemes, forgiven him when he'd carried them out without her knowledge. He still remembered the rush of pride and warmth he'd felt when she'd told Hightower she trusted him. Trusted _him. _Trust was a big thing for Teresa Lisbon, that he knew for sure. And yes, he'd insisted for years that she could, but there was a big different between that and her saying it. And his promise to her – that he would always save her. How could he keep that promise if he allowed her to keep up this ridiculous facade? It was probably the first time in his life, or certainly in a long while, that he'd been stuck for the right thing to do, and Jane was discovering he really didn't like the feeling.

Only one thing was for sure – he couldn't let her go to prison. He couldn't fail another one of the women he loved.

Wait, what? Where had that come from? The thought had rolled easily through his mind, like it was just a fact of life, one he'd been well aware of. But he didn't love Lisbon, well, not like he'd loved his wife and daughter, who he'd gone through years of turmoil and heartbreak and hell bent revenge seeking for. After all, is it even possible to love so fiercely twice? Didn't that in some way ruin the sanctity of the love – not the marriage, he had no opinion or real care for the sancitity of marriage, but of love? That all consuming love he had felt for his wife from the first moment he saw her in the carnival when they were just children, and she'd smiled at him, tucking a wisp of blonde hair shyly behind her ear – wasn't that in some way sacred? And he hadn't felt that when he saw Lisbon anyway, he'd seen her as a means to an end, someone he had to have at least slightly on his side in order to achieve his aim. He'd charmed her and teased her because he knew she'd like it even though she pretended not to, and solved all her cases because that would give her a reason to keep him around. Liking her was never a necessity, but it helped that he did. From the start he'd _liked _her, her tough attitude that he knew hid someone softer and more vulnerable that at some point in his knowing her he'd become determined to unmask. And why had he done that? Why did it matter to get to know her better – because it had mattered, it had become important. To better control her and manipulate her to his ends? The thought was logical, but didn't ring true. In fact, if he was honest, and he tried to be with himself if no one else, manipulating Lisbon hadn't been in his mind at all. He was just curious about her. He loved the moments when she would open up and show him a bit of the person beneath her mask. He loved her sense of humour too, her dry, biting sarcasm. He loved shocking her, even loved that cute look she got on her face when she was really pissed at him. He loved all those things about her, and a million more, but that was different from loving _her. _He loved things about... Grace too. No, he didn't. He liked things about Grace. It was different. And his brain had been running through thoughts at a mile a minute, confused in a way he rarely was. That was what sealed it really. He'd only felt confused in this way once before.

Another man on the bus watched from across the aisle as the blond man's blue eyes opened wider in an experession of shock.

"Shit," the other passenger muttered to himself in amazement.

The man shook his head. You got all sorts of nutters on public transport.

Jane got off the bus and walked to the cemetery where his wife and daughter were buried. It had been too long since he visited the grave, but he felt a little more peaceful there now, knowing their murderer was dead at last. He laid down the flowers he'd bought, and just stared at the headstone. Something felt final about the occasion – and he had no doubt it was something to do with his realisation on the bus. From his left hand he twisted off a well worn wedding band. His hand shook as he rested it beside the headstone.

"I'll always love you," he said, supposedly addressing the headstone, but since he knew they couldn't hear him, more talking to himself. "But I did what I promised. I got revenge for you. And now it's time for me to move on... while I still have a life."

And even though he knew there was no afterlife, he could picture his wife watching him and saying "About time."

…

He was in court promptly on Monday morning – and so was Lisbon, there before even Rose, before they could go into the courtroom. He was early because he was nervous – she was early because she knew he would be. It didn't take much to find him, looking out a window on one of the top floors of the building. Perhaps so many years had given her some kind of insight into where Jane would go to hide.

"We need to talk," she said.

He turned around, surprised she'd found him. "I don't think that's allowed," he replied – not that he cared about the rules particularly, but he still hadn't made up his mind and didn't want to have this conversation.

"It's not," Lisbon said bluntly, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the nearest open door, a large storage cupboard. "Jane, I need to know what you're gonna say up there."

"Trust me, Teresa, I'd love to know that too."

"You've gotta back me on this one, Jane, please," she said, hating her pleading tone but perfectly willing to beg if that was what it took.

"No, Lisbon, I've got to do what's best for you. Even if that means doing something you'd see as a betrayal, don't you understand?"

"This _is _best for me."

"You're really sure you won't be found guilty?"

"Yes," she replied, even though it wasn't strictly true.

"What if you're wrong? Then you'll have thrown away your whole life for me."

"Yeah well that's the risk I took, it was my choice."

"You can't possibly be telling me you'd have done this if you knew what would happen."

Lisbon wondered if she would have – then realised it wasn't really a question at all, even with everything that was happening, she'd make the same decision in a heartbeat. But that gave away too much of what she felt, of what she didn't want Jane to know, and yet she couldn't quite deny it.

"I don't know what I'd have done, Jane, hindsight's a wonderful thing. But I did it, and now I am begging you to trust me."

"This isn't about trust!" he yelled, exasperated, longing for a way to make her see. He put his hand against the wall on either side of her head, pinning her to it. Their faces were just centimetres apart, and he could feel the heat from her body radiating outward. He dropped his voice to barely a whisper. "This is about your life. This is about the life you deserve. You want me to help you take the blame for what I did. You think it's the right thing now, sure, but what about months from now? Years? You're going to regret it and then you'll wish I hadn't let you."

As he spoke, Lisbon could feel his breath on her face – she longed to close the tiny gap between them, press her lips against his and show him just how and why she didn't and wouldn't regret what she'd done. She couldn't believe he didn't get it by now, didn't understand just how far she'd go for him – to prison, if necessary.

"How could you say that?" she breathed.

Jane couldn't make sense of the answer, but then, his usually superb powers of reasoning were slightly thrown by being so close to her – something he hadn't thought of when he'd trapped her against the wall. In that moment, he supposed, she was being everything he loved about her, strong but also vulnerable, unwaveringly loyal – and undeniably beautiful. Her hair was up, and he wanted desperately to pull the tie out so it would fall loose around her shoulders. Her lips were slightly parted and horribly tempting, her eyes a little moist, shining with anger, hurt, and emotions even he couldn't begin to identify. Jane wasn't ashamed to admit to himself that he had stopped even trying to work out what she meant, and his thoughts had taken a completely different course. He was just a man, after all.

Lisbon bit her lip, wondering why he'd been silent for so long, wondering if he was ever going to move away from her and mostly hoping he didn't. She didn't think it was possible for there to be any less space between them without them touching, but somehow he managed, taking a small step forward. She pressed herself backward into the wall. Her brain screamed in confusion. She stopped breathing.

Then suddenly he was gone. She heard the door close behind him before she could work out what had just happened.

…

Sitting in the witness room, Jane berated himself. _Yeah, just accost her, Patrick, that's a good idea, you idiot. That's going to make you both feel better. Just because you've had an awakening is no excuse to act like a hormonal teenager. And what good does it do her that you love her anyway? None at all, that's what. You've gotten her on trial for murder, that pretty much shows how good you are for her, doesn't it? Idiot._

He continued in that vain pretty consistently until the bailiff came to take him into the court, and he realised he still didn't know what to say. Stepping into the witness box, he swore an oath in front of the god he didn't believe in to tell the truth. He could have affirmed, but it wasn't exactly at the forefront of his mind. She believed in God, but it didn't seem to trouble her to ask him to lie under an oath to Him. He looked up to meet her eye, and was caught immediately by the intensity of her stare – her eyes begging him, filled with the same emotions they had been earlier.

"Patrick," she mouthed with the lips he'd so nearly kissed.

"Mr Jane," said Rose Oliver. "Can you please run us through the events leading up to, and the death of, Josh Sylvester, better known as Red John?"

Jane nodded, his mouth dry, keeping eye contact with Lisbon even though he knew he should break it. Did he love her enough to lie because she asked him to? Or enough to tell the truth for her own good?

* * *

**Gotta love a cliffhanger.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Jane's testimmooonnnyyyyy :D. I have no more to say.**

* * *

There was no choice really. Jane began to tell the story.

"It was a Red John case. A woman dead, with the smiley face on the wall. At first I expected that it was a copycat, but as soon as we got to the crime scene... it just felt like him, and I knew. So I started pursuing every lead I could find."

The use of "I" didn't go unnoticed by Lisbon, and neither was it wrong. She remembered Jane going off on his own, and how worried she'd been. But there was nothing she could do to stop him, there never had been when it came to Red John. She tried, because she never would have forgiven herself if she hadn't.

_She trapped him in the elevator – it was the only place she was able to get a hold of him all day. He looked like he wasn't going to let her speak, so she began before he could stop her._

"_Don't do this on your own."_

_He just shook his head. "Lisbon, come on. You'd just try and stop me."_

"_I'd protect you," she said honestly. "And then I'd stop you."  
"I don't need protection."_

_She snorted at his stupidity. "Red John isn't like everyone else, Jane, you don't have him wrapped around your little finger. He thinks outside of your box, you can't predict what he's going to do."_

"_I'm a lot better at it than I used to be."_

"_Jane, don't shut me out."_

_He fixed her with a long look. "I'm going to go check out a lead. Would you like to join me?"_

_Lisbon paused, trying to quell the euphoria of having gotten through to him in some way. Eventually all she said was,_

"_I'm driving."_

"Lisbon cornered me to ask me not to go after him alone," was how Jane phrased it "So I let her in on a lead I'd found, the victim went to a regular exercise class and had been asked out by a guy from there. She rejected him, he started stalking her. When he reached breaking point and attacked her, a stranger pulled him off her, scared him off, and gave her a lift home. That stranger was Josh Sylvester, I saw his business card, printed in red ink, in her house. When I came across him again, I decided to check it out. Lisbon and I drove to the address on his card and parked in an underground garage."

"_There's something a bit freaky about these places," Lisbon commented._

"_Now Lisbon, it's not like you to have an irrational fear of a place based purely on pop culture," he had teased lightly – she was just relieved at how normal he seemed._

"_It's not pop culture," she protested. "It's the silence, and all the pillars and dark corners to hide in."_

"_Don't worry, I'll look after you."_

"_Oh yeah, that's likely."_

_It was just then, as they walked past, yes, a pillar, Lisbon felt the presence behind her and the cloth over her mouth. She lashed out, grabbing for her gun, but by the time she'd pulled it out the holster, the chloroform had kicked in and it fell uselessly out of her limp hand._

"The next thing I knew, I woke up the warehouse," said Jane.

He took a deep, rattling breath, and his hand fluttered up as though he wanted to press it to the wound on his chest, but was too proud to admit the pain in public. Lisbon wondered if she was the only person who had picked up so much from that movement, or if it was obvious to everyone in the room.

"I saw Lisbon, she was already awake. The first thing she said was "we'll get out of this". The next was "stop feeling guilty, you idiot". I'd already been thinking there was a reason I left her out of my investigation."

By now Lisbon and Jane were just staring at each other across the courtroom – both of them were recalling the following few hours of terror that they'd been through.

"_I'm sorry," he'd said anyway, and he'd said it more than once. Nothing she could say would convince him he had no reason to be – it was really annoying, and she'd told him that more than once too. They were alone in the dimly lit room for what seemed like forever. They discussed a few escape ideas, but theythey were tied tightly to the chairs. Infuriatingly, all her stuff was still in her pockets, but she couldn't reach any of it. Aside from that, and the ceaseless apologies, it didn't seem like there was much to say. And then Red John had shown up._

"_Mr Sylvester," Jane had greeted him._

_The serial killer only laughed. "So we really have come to the end of our little game, Mr Jane. I confess I was getting a little bored, you took your time."_

_Jane flinched. _

"_You know, because I'm a mature sort of guy and I can admit my mistakes, I'm going to let you two in on a secret. I didn't actually mean to end it this early, I was just going to take your girlfriend to start, but you went in her car. I realised you must have shared your information with her – not something I'd expect of you, by the way, to put her in danger that way – and so I took you both, because now I'm going to have to kill you."  
He made it sound as though he didn't want to._

Lisbon noticed that Jane omitted the fact Red John had called her his girlfriend, and she was just fine with that. He went on to tell about how as soon as Sylvester had untied him (it apparently felt crass to kill Jane while he was tied to a chair, "after all, you are the closest thing to an equal I've had"), Jane had stumbled over to Lisbon, supposedly in a peak of emotion, gibbering apologies and half ended bits of advice as he slipped her a razor blade, winking up at her in the way that only Jane could in such a situation. He put it on the side of her seat, and while Jane and Red John said whatever it was that they said to each other, she stretched up her fingers, just managing to grasp it between two of them. There was an awful moment where it nearly slipped to the floor and she just managed to catch it, cutting her hand. Then she began to cut through the ropes.

"As Lisbon freed herself, he caught on and drew his gun. He was pointing it at us, and said a few final words – I don't even know what they were, I was trying to think of a way out. And then I," he stalled.

This was the moment of truth, of course. The sentence should have been, and then I grabbed Lisbon's gun. That's what it would be if he told the truth. They stared at each other.

"I felt Lisbon draw her gun beside me and they both started to shoot. That's the last thing I remember before waking up in hospital."

"No further questions, Your Honour," said Rose.

And now Allan stood up to cross examine him. This was the bit Lisbon was really dreading.

"Why did you have a razor blade, Mr Jane?"

"I'd rather kill myself than let that bastard do it," was Jane's steady reply.

"You have spent some time being treated in a mental facility, correct?"  
"Correct."

"Can you tell me what that was for?"

"That's confidential information, Mr Allan." Jane said. "But I expect you can guess, it doesn't take, well, me, to work it out."

Allan smirked. "You have some ego, Mr Jane. And on top of this, you are a compulsive liar, is that correct?"

"I prefer to say I have a loose relationship with the truth."

"So you are admitting, in a court of law, to being a liar?"

"I thought I'd save you the trouble of proving it to the court by calling up all the people I've lied to, up to and including the woman you're prosecuting, by the way. I was a TV 'psychic', of course I'm a liar."

"And for what reasons do you lie?"

"Once upon a time, to make money. Now, to catch murderers in whatever way is easiest."

"What about to protect loved ones?"

"I see the many routes you could take this line of questioning, and I think I'll decline to answer," was Jane's candid reply.

"Why?"

"Because I don't like any of them."

"Would you lie to protect your loved ones, Mr Jane?"

"Loved ones is a very ambiguous term, Mr Allan. Most of my loved ones are dead."

"And I'm very sorry about that, but I think you know what I'm asking."

"Why don't we assume I don't, and you could just ask it."

"One final question – do you love Agent Lisbon?"

Jane paused. He'd been pushing Allan to ask, but that was out of sheer annoyance at the man, and he hadn't considered the answer. It wouldn't help the case if he said yes anyway, and it wasn't like he was about to go admitting that to a roomful of people, especially a room with Lisbon in it.

"I love my _wife_," he replied steadily.

The half truth felt bitter on his tongue, and he couldn't bear to meet Lisbon's eye. She wouldn't look at him either, staring at the table in front of her and wishing she could feel happy that he'd supported her instead of just a pit of god knows what emotion at what he'd just said.

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**Lisbon's coming up! Though there might be a filler chapter in between, I mean, there's some aftermath to write here.**


	13. Chapter 13

**What can I say, it is a bit of a filler in that not much, well, that is to say nothing happens, but I was in the mood for some Jisbon :) I hope you all are too. **

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She couldn't face him. Lisbon knew that if Jane saw her now, he'd realise how upset she was, and work out why. And that would ruin everything. She left the court without stopping to talk to anyone, turning left – a random choice of direction – and walking as fast as she could. Then she heard him behind her, yelling her name. Stopping, she took a deep breath, and turned around. She would not run away from Patrick Jane. Nevertheless, on catching his eye, she felt her heart skip a couple of beats, remembering the way he had pressed her against the wall, his body heat radiating toward us. And then she heard his voice in her head, "I love my wife.", and forced herself to calm down.

Jane walked toward her, seeing from her expression that he'd done something wrong, though he couldn't think what. Despite his better instincts, he'd done exactly what she asked him to do. And then he remembered how he'd lost control that morning, so nearly kissing her in that darkened room. No wonder she was running away from him. He stopped about a foot from her, judging that to be a safe distance.

"Thank you," she said, voice heavy with sincerity.

Jane shook his head. "I can't believe I'm letting you take the blame for this. I'll never forgive myself."

"Then why?" Lisbon asked, genuinely curious, though quickly adding, "Not that I object."

His mouth twisted up into a wry, sad smile. "If I didn't, you'd never forgive me, and that would be worse. I've already done things I can't forgive myself for."

Her eyes flicked up as though she were about to roll them at him. And though she may have managed to stop herself, she knew he'd noticed.

"Thank you," she said again, her mouth turning up into a rare unforced smile. "Do you want to get a coffee or something?" she took a small step closer to him. "You can tell me all about being in a coma."

Lisbon moving forward had destroyed Jane's safe distance, and he was hit once more by the urge – among others – to pull her hair out from it's severe, scraped up ponytail. This time, in part to avoid succumbing to other desires, he gave in, swiftly pulling it loose, watching the dark waves fall down around her shoulders. She looked better now.

"I'd love to," he said, pushing her hairtie onto his wrist.

"Jane!" she said sharply, trying to disguise a smile in her voice. "Would you give me that?"

He grinned. "No."

A laugh escaped from her lips – the feeling was so unfamiliar she didn't even manage to stop it.

"Strange man," she said. "Where are we getting this coffee then?"

"I know a place."

Now Lisbon really did roll her eyes. "Of course you do."

They sat just a few minutes later in a tucked away little cafe that made Lisbon believe she could be anywhere in the world, there was something distinctly European about it, but perhaps that was just inspired by the time a boyfriend had taken her to Paris, the only time she'd ever been to the continent, and it had been so cold that they'd spent the whole week touring the warm cafes. At any rate, it made a pleasant change from the overcrowded, brightly lit Starbucks she would usually frequent. And it was very... Jane. It didn't surprise her in the least that the owner began to make Jane's pot of tea the second he stepped in the door, asking only "what will your friend have, Patrick?"

He brought over the tea and the coffee promptly, and Jane introduced him as Ricky, and to Lisbon's amusement, introduced her as "my good friend Teresa".

"So, tell me what happened while I was out of action. Aside from the obvious."

His comment on "the obvious" made it clear he didn't want to talk about Red John or the case, which suited her down to the ground.

She bit her lip, trying to think what else had happened. "Grace and Rigsby hooked up again," she supplied.

Jane waved his hand in dismissal. "Please, _aside _from the obvious."

Lisbon laughed. "In that case, really very little. Minelli's still standing in until they find a new boss."

"Oh, I _love _new people," Jane said, his grin only a touch malicious.

Lisbon laughed, imagining the torments Jane would rain down upon a new boss, but also out of happiness that his reaction indicated he _would _be back..

He seemed to have also noticed the implication, and fell silent for a second. "If you'll have me," he said, revealing a hint of insecurity.

Lisbon couldn't stop smiling, she didn't even need to answer. How could she not have noticed she was in love with this man? She still didn't _like _that she was, but...it just seemed so obvious. And well, loving him couldn't be that bad, if it made her smile in a way that she hadn't for months. That was enough, she told herself. It was enough.

"You were going to tell me about being in a coma," she reminded him.

Jane, momentarily entranced by her laughter and sparkling eyes, pulled himself back to earth.

"Very strange. I think I heard you sometimes. And I had dreams, Lisbon..." he shook his head, as though trying to clear a memory.

"What did you dream of?" she gently asked.

Taking a sip of his tea, Jane shrugged. "Angela... Charlotte... _him._"

Lisbon nodded, of course, it made sense, she shouldn't have even needed to ask.

He drank another gulp of tea, contemplating telling her the truth, well, the rest of the truth.

"And you," he said, casually, passing it off as though it were unimportant.

She played along. "Oh yeah, what was I doing?"

"Telling me off, what else?" he said lightly, but then his voice dropped to just over a whisper. "Telling me to wake up."

Her smile fell. Drinking her coffee, she nodded slightly. "Yeah, I did a lot of that."

Enjoying his company, the reality of him being there, awake, with her, she invited him back to her apartment, only remembering at the last minute to warn him that Tommy was staying.

"Allan called him to testify," she explained, making no secret of her anger.

His jaw clenched, he was angry for her. "Forget about him. At least you and your brother have had a chance to further resolve your issues."  
"Tommy and I don't have issues."

"Sure, whatever."

She felt the familiar annoyance building up – she welcomed it back. "Be nice to him. No creepy Jane stuff."

He drew a cross over his heart, and she opened the door.

"Tommy, I'm home!"

"Hey Ter," he looked up from a book he was reading on her sofa. "Oh. You must be Patrick Jane."

"Lisbon," Jane grinned, then realising both people were Lisbon, corrected himself. "Teresa, I mean. You talk about me? I'm flattered."

"Only when necessary, Jane."

Tommy laughed. "Oh god this is exactly like when you and Andy..." he was silenced by a glare from Lisbon. "Never mind."

"No!" Jane said. "Do mind. Please do mind. Who's Andy?"

"Sorry dude," said Tommy. "She's scarier than you."

"Shut up, both of you," Lisbon laughed. "Anyway Tommy, Jane's going to stay with us a while."

"He is?"  
"I am?"

"I don't want you going back to your house too soon," she said, biting her lip. "And they're hardly going to let you sleep at the CBI. But Tommy's in my only spare bedroom so you can have the sofa, that might make you feel more at home."

Jane just stared at her, and then, lost for words, just put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. Shocked, and sure that he could feel her heart beating twice as fast as usual, Lisbon awkwardly placed his hands on her back.

Tommy turned back to his book. "Yep," he said. "Exactly like Andy."

* * *

**Andy is just a random name for some ex of Lisbon's, if you were wondering.**

**Lisbon's testimony coming up! Drop me a line pretty please :).**


	14. Chapter 14

**WOO AN UD. I have no more to say.**

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Her heart was beating so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest. Blood rushed around her head, whooshing past her ears. The courtroom itself was deadly silent, and only Lisbon could hear the cacophony within herself. It was so loud that she almost didn't hear them asking her to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help her God. Lisbon wondered if she'd go to hell for what she was doing.

Lying to the courts.

Lying under an oath to God.

Probably.

Well she couldn't stop now. Not that she would.

Having Jane move in had been one of her better ideas, not just for his sake but for her own, for the sake of reminding her why she was doing all this.

"Agent Lisbon," said Rose softly. "Can you explain to me the events leading up to Josh Sylvester's death?"

She told the story, the exact same story Jane had told before her. The lie that everybody except her team believed, admitted, again, to shooting Red John. She was almost beginning to believe it herself.

"Thank you, I understand that was hard for you. Can you tell the court why you became a police officer?"

"I believe in justice," she said simply.

"And what do you think of the justice system?"

"I'm part of the justice system. I know that whatever criticism it gets, it's still made up of good people doing the best they can. And I trust those people."

"No further questions, Your Honour."

Allan stood, resting his hands on the desk before him. "Agent Lisbon," he said.

"Mr Allan," she replied, fighting an illogical urge to smile.

"You just lied under oath," he said, as though it were a fact. Which of course it was.

For a split second her mind screamed at her that he _knew _but of course that wasn't right. The part he thought she was lying about was when she said that she'd _had _to shoot him, not when she said that she'd shot him at all.

"You're wrong," she answered, just as calmly. Fingers finding the cross around her neck, she pulled it slightly forward. "I would never break an oath to God, or in a courtroom."

_Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. _This one was going to take a hell of a confession.

"One thing I commend about you, Agent Lisbon, is your unwavering loyalty to the people you love."

Deciding to take a leaf out of her team's book, Lisbon said nothing, reasoning that it wasn't actually a question.

"Do you love Patrick Jane?"

The heart went off again. Yes. No. Yes of course. No of course not. Of course they'd asked Jane this question too. What had he said? I love my wife. But she didn't have a husband to fall back on. She laughed a little at the thought, then realised she'd laughed aloud. Luckily, it had worked quite well, indicating she found the thought so funny she hadn't been able to help herself.

"No," she finally said. "He's a good friend of mine, but that's not what you mean, is it?"

To his credit, Allan chuckled quietly in response. "No, it's not. Do you have a sexual relationship with Mr Jane?"

"No, I do not."

_Jane walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He wore only pyjama pants, hanging low around his hips, revealing the curve of his pelvis and a surprisingly toned body for someone she could barely imagine breaking a sweat, never mind exercising, who always left the running to Cho. His curly hair stuck up all over the place, and he was somehow hot and adorable all at the same time. He was stretching up to the cupboard above the sink when she reached her leg out, prodding the small of his back with her toe. He jumped in shock and whirled around to see her sitting on the kitchen table, laughing at him. _

"_Lisbon," he said, catching his breath. "Didn't notice you there."_

"_Obviously," she smiled, suddenly conscious that she was only wearing underwear and a very baggy t-shirt._

_He smiled back at her, and she could have sworn for a second that he was checking her out, though it was most likely wishful thinking.  
"You're cute with bed-hair," he said. _

"_I could say the same," she replied, hopping off the table. _

_This wasn't the first time since he moved in that they'd been uncomfortably close, but it was the first time they'd been half naked and uncomfortably close. She had to tilt her head up to look at him, and she could smell his skin._

"_Sleep well, Patrick," she said, stepping to the side and walking back to her room._

Lisbon chastised herself for getting lost in the memory. _So _not an appropriate time.

"Shall we talk about your childhood, Agent Lisbon?"

Lisbon shrugged. "That's really up to you."

"Losing your mother so young must have been difficult."

"I can't say it was ideal, no."

"You must have been very angry when her killer walked free."

"Anyone would be," she said.

"And then your life took a turn for the worse because of it."

"No," she said.

"No?"

"My life didn't take a turn for the worse because her killer walked free. It took a turn for the worse because she died."

"I think the court could have understood that."

"It seems like an important clarification, given what you're trying to imply."

She could feel herself getting angry, and could feel Rose glaring at her for getting angry, so she forced herself to take a few deep breaths.

"Did you ever talk about getting revenge on the drunk driver who killed your mother?"

"Yes. I was eleven years old. Shall we hold you to the things you said when you were eleven?"

"I'll ask the questions, Agent Lisbon," he said sternly.

She bit her tongue.

"Did you blame that driver for what went wrong in your life?"

"Yes I did."  
"And you joined the police to try and make sure no one else suffered like you had?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel you've been successful?" he asked.

"As far as I could have been," she replied.

"And yet you could not find a way to stop Patrick Jane from suffering, it must have driven you insane."

Lisbon sought out Jane in the courtroom, meeting his intense blue gaze.

"Nobody could stop Patrick Jane from suffering," she said softly, her quiet voice still managing to fill the even quieter court. "God himself couldn't stop Patrick Jane from suffering."

"But you thought he might suffer less if Red John were dead?"

"He thought that. I was very doubtful of it."

"You're lying, Agent Lisbon."

"I'm not."

"You murdered Red John in cold blood, to take revenge for what he did to the man you love."

"I shot Red John to save my life, and the life of my friend."

"No further questions, Your Honour."

She left the stand, returning to her seat, and Rose stood to say the defence closed its case.

"Would the prosecution like to make a closing statement?"

"Yes, Your Honour," said Adrian Allan, standing. "You have heard, as I promised, a tale which would inspire compassion in the coldest of hearts. Nobody could blame you for sympathising with Teresa Lisbon. But that is not your job. You have heard testimony from a very well respected psychologist that Lisbon was vicariously traumatised by Jane's tragedy. You have heard of her horrible childhood, her mother's death and the abuse it led to, the failure of justice in letting her mother's killer walk free – hardly a story that would inspire faith in the system. You have heard of her love, her loyalty, her anger. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, look at Teresa Lisbon. How far would she go to protect her loved ones? What would she do? Your job is not to be compassionate, to do what is easy. It is to do what is right. And the right thing to do is to find Teresa Lisbon guilty. Thank you."

"Would the defence like to make a closing statement?"

"Yes, Your Honour." Rose took to her feet, facing the jury head on. "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you do feel compassion for Teresa Lisbon, for in her life she has suffered more than people should. But she is not a murderer. And the reason you should acquit her is not because of compassion, it is because of evidence. Simply put, the prosecution has none. Adrian Allan has tried to blind you with theatre and flashing lights, but there is a thing in this country called reasonable doubt. And if there is any doubt in your mind of her guilt – which surely there must be – you are bound to find her not guilty."

She turned back to Lisbon and smiled.

The judge began to talk to the jury, but Lisbon didn't hear. She could only hear herself thinking _it's nearly over, it's nearly over_, and the beating of her heart and the rush of her blood in her ears.

* * *

**Court case nearly done! Excitement.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Oh gosh, once again I'm sorry for the horrible wait! Especially the chapter before the verdict, oopsieeee. I really am sorry, I hope you enjoy this :).**

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"God himself couldn't stop me from suffering, huh?" Jane said, passing her a coffee.

Lisbon's hands were shaking – it was the morning after her testimony, and already the jury had a verdict. She'd avoided Jane the previous night, thinking that it probably would have been obvious to him when she'd stood there and lied about not loving him. However he hadn't said anything: he either really hadn't picked up on it, or was being more sensitive than he'd ever been before.

"What, you're going to argue with that?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He sipped his tea. "It's not strictly true," he said.

Lisbon remained unconvinced, but he refused to expand.

"Go on, drink your coffee, get the artificial energy."

To oblige him she lifted the mug to her lips, swallowing a little, and couldn't help smiling. In just the short time of living with her, he'd picked up exactly how she liked her morning coffee.

"Perfect."

He grinned. "I know."

Jane looked at her, trying not to acknowledge the snakes writhing in his gut. She was making a valiant effort to do the same, but he could tell how nervous she was. At least he knew something for sure – if she was found guilty, he would find the nearest news camera and tell everyone what really happened. She'd get into trouble, yes, and he was far from happy about that, but it would be all he could do. It wasn't a plan he shared with her, obviously, but he expected that she knew.

"Ready?" he asked, knowing that it was a pointless question.

He didn't expect her answer.

"Yes," she said, with no hesitation. "I am so ready for this to be over now."

Jane reached across the table, resting his hand on top of hers. The sudden contact was unexpected, but not unwelcome, and Lisbon smiled at him, taking another sip of coffee. Surprised that she hadn't moved it, Jane smiled back and didn't move his either.

A few minutes passed before Tommy stepped into the kitchen and coughed. Embarrassed, Lisbon pulled her hand away, blood rushing up to her cheeks. Tommy smirked and began to help himself to coffee and cereal. As they sat eating breakfast together, despite the importance of the day, Lisbon felt a strange sense of familial security – something she hadn't had in a very long time. Part of her didn't want Jane to leave, but of course that was wishful thinking and she was grateful that he'd stayed as long as he had. Not that any of it would matter if she was found guilty. Her stomach flipped at the thought.

When they finished, it was time to shower and get dressed for one final day of court. Lisbon found a demure navy blue dress in the back of her closet. She couldn't even remember what she'd bought it for, but it seemed right for the occasion. She left her hair down and carefully applied her make up – it felt more than ever like warpaint.

"I like your dress," Jane said when he saw her.

"I like your tie," she replied – it was the only change in his usual attire of a three piece suit.

"My daughter got it for me for Christmas once. Angela chose it, of course, but technically it was from Charlotte."

Having Jane's family dropped into conversation wasn't something Lisbon was used to, and automatically her eyes dropped to his hand, only to widen in shock at the realisation there was no ring on his finger. Jane saw her looking but offered no explanation. He was struck by how nice it felt to mention them outside of the context of Red John.

The doorbell rang. The whole team was outside, including Minelli and Rose.

"Shall we do this?" Rose said, with an encouraging smile.

"As soon as Tommy's ready," Lisbon said, yelling through for him.

"I'm ready!" he said, appearing behind her. "Come on Teri, let's do this."

"Come on, boss," said Van Pelt, tilting her head out the door.

Lisbon considered a sarcastic comment, but decided against it. It was nice of them all to be there to support her, even if she'd never admit needing their support.

She and Rose split away from them once they reached the court. The relief that she felt knowing that, one way or the other, this would be the last time she was in the docks, was immense. She stood as the judge entered, and the anticipation and anxiety began to rise up within her. She needed to throw up. It was only Lisbon's pride that prevented her from running away. She glanced back into the gallery, where everyone was sitting. Rigsby gave her a thumbs up, Cho nodded and Grace and Jane smiled. Forcing herself to calm down and take a deep breath, she turned back to the front.

The jury were called through, the foreman stood.

"Have you reached a unanimous verdict?" asked the judge.

"We have."

"How do you find Teresa Lisbon on the charge of first degree murder, guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty."

A rush of conversation broke out through the court, the judge quickly silenced it.

"And on the charge of second degree murder, guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty," repeated the foreman.

Lisbon closed her eyes, sitting back in her chair. Tears prickled at her eyelids, but she forced them back.

"It's over," she heard Rose say. "It's finally over."

An image came to Lisbon, of herself crouched over Jane nearly a year before as the blood poured from his chest, telling him exactly the same thing. It's over. She hadn't forseen what was to come, she didn't know then what she still had to face. She was concerned only for his welfare, and yet she hadn't even considered that he might die, just because he couldn't – and he hadn't. Red John was dead at last, and she'd genuinely believed what she was saying: it was over.

She'd been wrong then, and now she hardly dared to hope.

* * *

**Heyyyy then, sorry to tag a depressing ending onto the end of what is essentially a happy chapter. Just wanted to indicate to you guys that Take The Fall is far from over, I have a lot that I still plan to happen in this fic, even though the court case IS finished. But to be honest, how could we ignore the fact that Lisbon, who's been off work for ages and through a murder trial, has to somehow return to the CBI, which let's be honest won't be easy, nothing bad has happened to that slimeball Adrian Allan, and, of course, the unresolved sexual tension between Jane and Lisbon is still, well... unresolved. Just a little idea of what may be to come! However I'm afraid I can't guarantee that it will be an easy ride of happiness and puppies from now on in...**


	16. Chapter 16

**Heyyy, sorry for the wait. I'm not sure if you're going to love me or hate me for this, but here it is all the same! I hope you enjoy :).**

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Lisbon hadn't set foot inside her office for a very long time. It was a strange feeling, to be back at work. Of course she could trust her team to make sure that her office was completely untouched – nothing about it had changed at all, and she was grateful for that. She was grateful for everything that they'd done for her through this whole ordeal. It seemed so strange that everything could just be back to normal after so many months of hell. Her brain wasn't quite ready to accept it. She walked to the kitchenette to make herself a coffee. There were here team, tying up the loose ends and paperwork of some murder that had happened in her absence. There was Jane, lying on his couch, humming contentedly as he stared at the stain on the ceiling that supposedly looked like Elvis.

"Tea or coffee, anyone?" she asked.

"Tea would be lovely," said Jane instantly, swinging up into a sitting position. "Thank you, Lisbon."

With the countless coffees he'd made for her since he'd moved in, it was really the least that she could do.

Grace couldn't help smiling. When she'd first heard that Jane and Lisbon were living together, her conflicting emotions were of happiness, of course, but also the fear that it might just make them even edgier with each other than they already were. But if anything, the opposite had happened. They seemed more harmonious, the bickering was still present, but it was more relaxed. They were more relaxed with each other. It _worked _with Jane and Lisbon. She glanced up to find Wayne smiling at her, and her face also cracked into a smile. Of course, they weren't the only people in the world it worked for. If anything good could possibly have come from what had happened, it was that she'd finally been able to look past her obsession with rules and be with the man she loved. Because life was short, and that was all too obvious when Jane had been lying unconscious on a hospital bed, surviving only from one second to the next.

Cho felt like he was living in a high school, with all the emotions and hormones that were flying about the place. Was he really the only one capable of keeping his personal life outside of work? Not that he really minded. At least Rigsby being with Van Pelt meant he wasn't mooning over her constantly with that expression like a wounded puppy. As for Lisbon and Jane... he looked over to where they stood, drinking tea and coffee together, chatting away. Well it was only to be expected. It beat the other possible outcome – them not talking to each other at all.

Minelli walked in, and gestured to Lisbon to talk to him. Leaving Jane, she followed him out into the corridor.

"Well I've finally gotten rid of this job again," he said.

"They've hired a replacement?"

"At last."

She felt an unexpected surge of emotion constricting her throat. "Boss... I'm glad it was you. Who was leading the CBI while this was going on. I... thank you."

"Never again," he said sternly, but there was a hint of humour there, and he seemed touched by what she'd said.

"I certainly hope not, sir."

"Anyway, come meet your new boss."

He led her through to the office, where there was a woman waiting. She was pale with blonde her and blue eyes, whichflickered with recognition as she saw Lisbon. The notoriety of being on trial for murder was something she'd never gotten used to.

"Agent Lisbon. Congratulations on being cleared."

Lisbon couldn't help laughing a little. 'Congratulations' hardly seemed like the right sentiment.

"Thank you."

"Lisbon," interjected Minelli, "This is Iona Hawthorn. Ms Hawthorn, obviously you already know of Teresa Lisbon."

"Pleasure to meet you, Ms Hawthorn," Lisbon said, glad to at last have a name.

"I'll leave you two to get aquainted. I have a lot of fishing to catch up on."

"Agent Lisbon, take a seat."

Iona Hawthorn was unnervingly formal, and Lisbon got the impression she considered this conversation a distasteful deed. Perhaps she believed that Lisbon was a murderer after all. Still, she was the boss, so Lisbon complied and tried to look as polite as possible while she did.

"I'm sure you're aware you've become something of a... celebrity this past year."

"There was quite a bit of press attention to the trial," Lisbon conceded, not seeing where the conversation was going, but beginning to feel a familiar discomfort in the pit of her stomach.

"Look, Lisbon – may I call you Lisbon? I'm going to be straight with you. I don't like doing this to someone who's worked so tirelessly for the CBI and been such an asset to the agency. I know what you've done in your career, and you have a lot to be proud of. So just make sure you remember that. But you're well known now, and I'm afraid that just doesn't work when you hold this position. People are going to recognise you when you knock on their door, you'll be useless in undercover situations or stings. I really am very sorry."

Lisbon's brain took a few minutes to grasp what had just happened. Then she got it.

"You're not serious."

"I'm afraid I am."

Lisbon even laughed, it just seemed so unbelievable. "The attention will pass after a few months. I'll stay mostly office-bound until it does."

To her credit, Hawthorn did manage to look genuinely sympathetic as she said, "Lisbon, I'm sorry. The decision has been made."

Lisbon wasn't sure she'd be able to move. It was only pride that stopped her from breaking down in front of her new boss... well, not her new boss. Keeping as much dignity as she could, she rose to her feet, and with a look of utter contempt, turned around and stalked out of the door.

Lisbon would have ran if she weren't so proud, she needed to get out of the CBI. A part of her couldn't accept that this was really happening – to lose her job, after all she'd been through? Really? She was more than aware life wasn't fair, but some things were taking it too far, surely. Her work meant so much to her. It was everything. She was only half aware of hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she stepped out into the pouring rain.

Jane was behind her, yelling her name, but his calls were muffled by the buzzing in her ears and the rain beating against the ground. She was drenched through, but that didn't matter, none of it mattered. She reached her car and fumbled with the keys, trying desperately to open it.

"It's unfair, Lisbon! We can contest it, Lisbon, please wait!" she heard Jane yell.

She turned around. "Contest it, Jane? Do you think I want to spend another _minute _inside a courtroom, really?"

He stopped dead in his tracks. "Lisbon... I told you. I told you you'd regret it," he sounded desperate.

Lisbon couldn't believe what she was hearing. She shook her head in disbelief, walking purposefully back to where Jane stood. She opened her mouth to try and talk to him, find the words to explain... and then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face toward her and crashing her lips against his.

There was a moment of stunned stillness before he put his arms around her, holding her against him, kissing her back fiercely.

They clung to each other like liferafts, saving them from drowning in the rain.

Lisbon pulled back, and gently placed her palm on his cheek.

"I don't regret a thing," she told him. "And I never will."

And then she stepped out of his embrace, climbed into her car, and drove away.

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**EEK JISBON. That's all I can say really xD.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I cannot apologise enough for how long I've made you guys wait for this, I hope some of you are still with me. However, in an attempt to make up for it, have some pure Jisbon on me.**

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Lisbon was curled up under a blanket on the sofa, watching the news with a cup of coffee. She had freaked out, she had cried, she had broken down, overwhelmed by the unfairness of losing her job on top of everything else that had happened, shocked by her own actions in kissing Jane, horrified that she had probably destroyed that friendship... but somewhere in the middle of her breakdown one thought had materialised clearly in her mind: _no one is dead, no one is in prison. All the other crap I can deal with._

That was the state of acceptance she had reached when there was a knock on the door. Groaning, she stood, thinking it was probably Tommy (she really had to get him a key if he was staying much longer). But, as she should have guessed, when she opened the door it was Jane who stood behind it.

"What are you doing here, Jane?" she said, weary and embarrassed.

"Well, uhm, I live here at the moment," he said, shrugging. "I can leave, but my stuff is here so..."

Sighing, she stepped aside to let him in. The first thing he did was glance around the living room and laugh.

"What?" Lisbon snapped.

"When normal people are depressed they turn to sad films, alcohol, and chocolate. Teresa Lisbon? Coffee and the news. It's brilliant, really. I love – it."

"Shut up, Jane."

"You like saying that," he said conversationally.

"Yeah well you talk too much."

"I'm wounded."

"I wish."

There was a pause and then she gasped in realisation of what she had said.

"Oh god, Jane, I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

He silenced her with a wave of his hand.

"Relax, Lisbon, I know you don't wish I was comatose in a hospital. The nursing staff told me you visited every day."

"Of course I did, you idiot."

"They thought you were my girlfirend," he said lightly.

"So does most of the world thanks to Adrian fucking Allan."

"That's not why the nurses thought it though."

Lisbon rolled her eyes.

"Jane, you are one of two people in the whole world who knows for damned sure we're not together."

"I'd like to change that."

She laughed bitterly. "What, should we throw a press conference and tell everyone?"

Jane shook his head in exasperation.

"Tell me, Teresa," he said, taking a step closer to her, "how can someone so clever be so bad at taking a goddamn hint?"

Her heartbeat sped up. "I... don't understand."

"I want to be one of two people in the world who knows for damned sure that we _are _together. I. Want. You."

"Jane, just because I – you don't owe me anything, okay?"

"I owe you everthing," he said. "But that's not why."

"So why?"

"Do you ever stop thinking?"

_It gets difficult with you standing so close. _"No."

"Do you trust me?"

"Jane -"

"_Teresa. _Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

He smiled. "Then trust me when I say I want you. I -" he took a breath, "love you. Don't ask why, dont' doubt me, don't think that I would say it if I didn't mean it. And you don't have to love me back but you kissed me today so if any part of you could ever want to be with me..."

Lisbon stared at him in disbelief.

"What?" Jane said, beginning to feel uncomfortable, wondering if he'd gone too far too soon. "Say something."

"You," she said. "You swan about like Sherlock Holmes deducing everything about everyone, and here I am, looking after you for years, pretending I killed Red John, going through a murder trial, losing my job, kissing you in the damn rain and telling you I don't regret a thing – and what, you _still _don't think I'm in love with you?"

She marvelled at how low Jane's self-worth must be if it could blind him to something so obvious.

"Is that your way of saying 'I love you too'?"

"Shut up, Jane."

He took another step towards her, leaving only a tiny gap between them.

"Am I talking too much?"

"Far too much."

Slowly, he rested one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her cheek, tilted her head up and leant down to press his lips softly against hers. She closed the last of the distance, pushing her body against his and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He pulled his head back a millimetre to whisper against her lips, "We can take this slowly if you like."

She kissed him again.

"What, four years isn't slow enough for you?"

Jane chuckled. "Point taken?"

His fingers brushed her hips, lifting the hem of her t-shirt. She stretched her hands over her head, allowing him to pull the top off before standing on her tip-toes to catch him in another kiss. His hands were warm and large enough to cover most of her waist when he held her.

She unbuttoned his vest and shoved it off his shoulders, still furiously kissing him. She broke away only to breathlessly say, "Why do you wear so many fucking buttons?" as she started on his shirt.

He laughed, fumbling a little as he unclipped her bra.

"Out of practise, Jane?" she teased, aware that it was also a serious question, as she didn't think he'd been with anyone since his wife.

"I think I'll be fine," he said, matching her tone but also answering her actual worries.

"I don't know, I'm getting the impression you're not going to last long," she said, grinning as she managed to get his shirt off at last.

"I'll think of Rigsby's socks."

"Ew. Omay, no need to ruin the mood _completely._"  
He pulled her lcose again, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his. Tugging at her beltloops, he indicated that they should go to her bedroom.

"Good idea. Don't know when Tommy will be back."

His eyes widened, and with a smile she led him by the hand into her room.

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**Ended it there because I didn't want to have to up the rating xD hope you enjoyed.**

**A/N2: Added bonus in that last line for any Castle fans - eek!**


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